My Soul's Dearest Wish
by shedoc
Summary: Harry unexpectedly gains a set of parents at the tender age of 16 and you can figure out the rest
1. seriously bored

Warning - this is so AU it needs another category of its own. It's one of those Sirius-doesn't-die-James-and-Lily-come-forward-in-time stories --- This will not magically excuse the pun solve all of Harry's problems. He will get into a slash relationship with Ron. There are others in slash relationships as well.

A/N - I started this a few months after I read book five and fell over it again recently so I thought I'd finish it and then punish you all horribly by posting it on the net. The characters may be OC in places, but that was the only way I could make the story work. As for cannon ---- it's been fired heh

Disclaimer - JKR owns all the characters etc, etc, etc. I have said it once, no need to say it a thousand times, right? Right.

A/N 2 - Be glad that I haven't tortured you with this until it is finished unlike my beta reader who ended up having to invite me to her house so she could make sure I wrote this and got it right! because looking back I can see it's taken me two years to write it!

Message from my beta - _also be glad you didn't have to put up with the cliff hangers!!!!!_

0o0o0o0

**Chapter one: Seriously Bored**

Sirius looked up at the ceiling above his bed and sighed in boredom. The novelty of being waited on hand and foot had worn off really fast. Confined to bed, and too weak to actually defy Madam Pomfrey, he was reduced to waiting for Remus to return from whatever errand he'd slipped away on. He didn't even have the strength to sit up properly and read; and he hated reading lying down. Not that there was anything in the room to read anyway as the papers were kept from him and the family library dealt mainly with the Dark Arts, and in all reality he just wasn't that bored. Very few people could just drop in and visit him, though Tonks dropped by as often as she could. Unfortunately with the revelation that Voldemort had returned - Fudge was touting it as if it was fresh news to him - the Order was incredibly busy, tracing spies of both the Death Eaters and the Ministry. It was the unfortunate truth that the disastrous battle at the Ministry for his godson's life had done some very real damage to all of them, though not all of it was visible.

His thoughts turned to the people that had rushed to Harry's aid, and once more he thanked Merlin, or whoever watched over foolishly loyal friends, that they had all survived. Ron Weasley - Harry's right hand man - had suffered some scarring to his arms and wrists in the aftermath of those brains. The scars would fade for the most part, only showing up if the marred skin was flushed or burnt by the sun, until eventually they faded into nothing.

Hermione Granger - Harry's right hand woman - had suffered an unidentified curse that had managed to almost dissolve her rib cage. She would recover in time, and although Madam Pomfrey had to repair some minor damage to her heart and lungs, there would be no lasting effects. She would have to be careful in her dotage though, lest the curse come back to haunt her. Please Merlin that wouldn't be until she was closing in on one hundred and eighty at the very least.

Ginny Weasley - Harry's friend - had broken an ankle, but she hadn't had to spend more than a few minutes in the care of Madam Pomfrey. Neither had Luna Lovegood, who was knocked unconscious by the Death Eaters they had battled. Neville Longbottom's nose had been repaired in seconds, and his pride in his accomplishments had allowed the young man to stand up to his grandmothers withering concern. Mrs Longbottom had been forced to see that her son's son had grown into a fine young man.

Harry's injuries were all internal, and Sirius was the most concerned about him. The others had family to support them, but once more his godson was exiled to the Dursley's and cut off from the Wizarding world. The problem was that once again Harry had led others into danger, yet had himself emerged relatively unscathed. Sirius knew - because Harry had told him right before he sobbed himself to sleep like a small child in his arms - that Harry blamed himself for their injuries and bitterly regretted his mistakes of the past year. Any teenage arrogance he'd had was gone, vanished like a snowflake in a fire. Sirius feared that his godson would never recover from this blow.

Sirius himself had very nearly fallen through the Veil in the Department of Mysteries. Only a shield, erected unconsciously by his godsons love, had stopped him from falling through, though his legs had crossed the threshold. He'd felt his life being leached away and had only just made it back into the room. Harry hadn't seen that of course, believing him dead his godson had chased LeStrange through the Ministry, to be eventually cornered and possessed by Voldemort himself. It had taken all of Harry's love to free himself from the foul Wizard's grip, and when he'd finally been allowed to visit Sirius three days later, it was obvious to the former convict that the teen hadn't recovered.

Sirius almost wished that Kreacher was still alive, so he could order the foul little elf around and generally make its life miserable. Apparently Remus had lost his temper and despatched the elf when it had muttered something about being sad that Sirius hadn't died. Remus' temper was enhanced by his curse, especially near the full moon, and Kreacher's death had been swift but unexpected. The werewolf had disposed of the body without ceremony and then gone on to destroy all the heads mounted on the wall and Mrs Black as well in a rage. Only Sirius' voice, calling anxiously from his bed, had distracted the werewolf, who had curled up on the covers with Sirius hand in his hair to calm down.

Remus had cared for him the past two weeks; waiting on him with a calm patience that Sirius was determined to wear down. He could get his friend to do the most outrageous things when he was riled; in fact some of their more successful pranks had been powered by Moony's indignation. Sirius grinned at the ceiling in memory, only to have the grin fade when a thought hit him out of the blue. He shoved with weakened arms to try and sit up better to figure this out when the door opened and Remus slipped cautiously into the room. His friend hated to wake him, and always did his best to move lightly when entering or leaving a room.

"Sirius?" Remus' arms wrapped around him and helped prop him up in the bed comfortably. He snagged a frayed sleeve and tugged and his friend joined him on the bed, curled up a little and leaning against the same pillows.

"I just realised," Sirius said hoarsely, "How different Harry and his friends are to how we were in school."

"What brought this on?" Moony sounded confused, as well he might. He was too close to the situation to really see it, his stint as Harry's teacher blinding him to the differences between the Marauders and the Golden Trio.

"I was thinking about how Harry snuck himself and his friends out of school - like we used to long ago," Sirius leaned into his friends shoulder, "But then I realised how different it was. When we were sneaking dung bombs into the staff room, they were sneaking through a set of enchantments to protect a philosopher's stone. When we were pranking the Slytherin common room they were figuring out the Chamber of Secrets. When James and I were figuring out why you kept disappearing, they were fighting an accused murderer for the life of a friend. When we were trying to hex the Slytherin's brooms, Harry was duelling Voldemort… I was thinking how proud James would be that his son broke as many rules as he did, but when we broke the rules it was for a prank or a lark. When Harry breaks the rules it's for the good of others."

"A bit of a shock to realise that your young man has grown up so fast," Remus muttered, "Our Cub hasn't had much of a child hood, what with one thing or another."

"We haven't helped," Sirius replied heavily, "We kept him in the dark last year, treated him like some helpless innocent. We tried to preserve a childhood that he's never been allowed to have."

"You can't change the past, Padfoot," Moony sighed, with all the bitter weight of experience. Padfoot nodded, twisting a bit so they were face to face, their breath warm on each others skin.

"We can avoid repeating the same mistakes. He gets told everything this year," Sirius replied, "I'll make Molly see the truth of the matter. No more deceptions, not even for his own good. He's already done so much, we should respect that."

"As you wish," Moony replied sadly and Padfoot nodded, his eyes drooping as his energy ran out, as it was wont to do nowadays. He felt thin yet strong arms creep around him and settled into the embrace gratefully, resting in the protection that his pack mate was offering.

0o0o0o0


	2. correspondence

**Chapter two: correspondence**

He woke alone in the bed again, which told him he'd been out for a long while. This had a tendency to happen, and didn't bother him too much now, as it meant he'd have more energy with each wakening. Magic was forbidden of course - it would drain his energies dangerously - but as long as Moony was around he didn't feel the lack.

Sirius and Remus had been dancing around each other since graduation, and the news of Lily's pregnancy had brought them together at last. That relationship had been destroyed by the Potters murders, and Sirius subsequent sentence to Azkaban. With his release, the dance had started again, on parchment only at first as he'd been on the run for two years. His return to his ancestral halls had seen a return of the intimate side of their relationship, though it had been very low key since his encounter with the Veil. Moony had needed to know that his pack mate was fully recovered before he'd even think of asking for more than the innocent cuddles and touches they'd shared. Sirius didn't mind: he would have hated to fall asleep just as things were getting interesting.

The door opened and Remus entered quietly with Hedwig on his shoulder. They'd learned that Harry's owl wouldn't leave until she'd seen Sirius with her own eyes, no matter how many letters they gave her or what they said. Neither man was sure why she insisted seeing Harry's godfather - it wasn't as if she could talk to Harry about him - but it was the quickest way to get her to take their letters back, so they gave in. Remus curled onto Sirius' bed and Hedwig moved to sit on the bedridden man's drawn up knees, looking him over very closely. He ignored the scrutiny as best he could, more interested in the letter his pack mate held in his hands. Remus made a show of unrolling the parchment and clearing his throat until Sirius poked him in the side impatiently.

_Dear Snuffles and Moony,_

_I'm pleased to report that I have nothing to report, so please report that to the relevant interested parties._

"He's a poet and didn't know it," Remus snorted and Sirius laughed.

_I'm studying hard…_

"Shades of Lily! She'd be so proud!"

"What on earth is he studying? There's no holiday homework in fifth year?"

…_and the Muggles are ignoring me, which makes a peaceful change. Hedwig is apparently turning into the world's best hunter, as she comes back with a dead rat every night. I've told her not to kill the ones with a missing toe._

"Amen to that - I need the little sod to clear my name. If you see one, you bring him straight here, got it girl?"

A soft hoot was the response.

_Seriously, though…_

Identical groans sounded at the awful pun.

…_how are you Snuffles? Is he taking his potions Moony? When I get there you'd better be better!_

_Cub_

Moony leaned over and grabbed quill and parchment from the drawer beside the bed, dragging a book that had been read and discarded to act as a writing platform. Sirius insisted on writing the letter, which they both knew Harry would take as a good sign.

_Dear Cub,_

The nickname had sprung up in one of Sirius' more maudlin and sentimental moments and had simply stuck. Harry was the only Cub of their pack, and using the nickname seemed to make him feel wanted. Both men were worried about the teen, as the Order hadn't seen hide or hair of him since he'd disappeared into the Muggles house. Three days later Hedwig had delivered a round of letters that had frightened them both. Harry had apologised for the danger he'd led his friends into and made solemn promises of restitution. He'd even sent one to Snape, and all the reports said that whatever had been in it had actually made the spy pale as he read it. To get a reaction like that out of a man who had professed to hate him, Harry must have written something pretty impressive. Snape had refused to show anyone the letter, but had joined his voice to the chorus that was calling for Harry's return to the Wizard world. Dumbledore wouldn't let them take Harry away from the Muggles though, and they had resigned themselves to waiting and sending letters as often as they could.

_I'm taking all my ruddy potions and Moony is being an awful bully about eating and sleeping. It's dead boring being stuck in bed, but better than the alternative, which I don't blame you for so get over it already._

_You can pity his teachers Harry; they had to wade through sentences like that on his class assignments all the time._

_Thanks Moony. No problem, Snuffles._

_As you can see, we're still talking to each other. I'm doing a lot better, and look forward to seeing you soon. - Snuffles_

_So do I - Moony_

Moony rolled the parchment after hitting it with a quick dry spell, and then tied it to the leg that Hedwig held out. She ruffled her feathers and hooted at Sirius, her eyes fixed upon his face. He smiled in confusion and petted her head, and action that she seemed to have been waiting for because she fluttered over to the window and hooted impatiently. Moony hit the glass with a spell to vanish it, restoring it once Harry's owl had departed.

"That is one weird bird," Sirius shook his head, "I hope she behaves for Harry."

"It's hard to say," Moony frowned, getting up and stripping the blankets off the bed. He hauled Padfoot up and herded him into the bathroom. Sirius stripped obediently and stepped into the shower while Moony leaned against the wall.

"I've heard him talk to her, and I know that she always comes to see him when he steps outside the castle. I've seen her shadow him to Care of Magical Creatures, and one really early morning they went flying around the Quidditch pitch together," he raised his voice to be heard over the water, and Sirius grunted, rinsing his hair. Moony warmed his pack mates towel and rubbed him dry briskly when the water shut off before leaving him to get dressed and changing the bed linen. The former convict was looking tired when he slid back into bed, but not so tired he couldn't pull Remus to lie down with him.

They were still lying quietly when Dumbledore opened the door. The elderly Wizards eyes widened for a moment, but when neither one made as if to let go he simply shut the door and drew up a chair - literally out of thin air. Sirius knew he was glaring at the Headmaster in unspoken challenge, but he wouldn't have their relationship disrespected for any reason. The not-quite nap had been enough to recoup the energy he'd lost taking a shower, and he was proud that he'd managed to do so much today.

"Hello boys," Dumbledore said quietly, "Sirius, how do you feel today?"

"Better, sir," Sirius forced himself to be respectful, even if he didn't feel that way. The past year had tarnished his feelings for the Headmaster, as the man mishandled Harry and his training, ignoring Sirius' wishes as well as the Weasley's advice.

"Good, good," Dumbledore twinkled, "Harry will be pleased. I know that he's been worried about you."

"We write to each other regularly. He sends us his reports on the Dursley's," Remus spoke up, "He hasn't reported any abuse."

"That is good to hear," Dumbledore murmured, "Though he will not be required to report for much longer."

"You're bringing him here?" Sirius sat up eagerly, and Dumbledore shook his head, raising a hand for patience. The former convict slumped back on his pillows, recognising that the elderly Wizard had something to say - and it wasn't likely to be short and to the point.

"He will be having guests until he can be removed safely," Dumbledore replied, "It is about the guests that I must speak to you. Do you remember the reports we had of a disturbance at Godric's Hollow last Halloween?"

"There were reports of two very powerful spells being discharged there. As I recall you took a couple of Order members to investigate with you," Remus spoke up, "You said that the culprits had been caught."

"That was not entirely true. It was the victims we caught, the culprit is still at large," Dumbledore sighed, and shifted so he was comfortable in the armchair he had conjured, "The exact details are still a little vague, even after all this time, however, the time has come to reveal several of the key facts to you both."

Sirius wondered what sort of news the man was about to impart. Whatever it was had to be pretty earth shattering from the way he was dancing around the subject. It was most unlike Dumbledore to do so, and it made the surviving Marauders uncomfortable. Remus tightened his grip on his friend and together they waited patiently for the Headmaster to come to the point.

"It seems that Harry's recollection of his parents murder - as aided by the presence of a Dementor - is not entirely accurate," Dumbledore began, "While it is true that James and Lily separated, and Lord Voldemort duelled them separately, the green flash that Harry recalls at the time of his mothers duel was not aimed at her."

The cold words, said so calmly, made Sirius cringe. Remus had told him all about Harry's reactions to the Dementors and the events that had led to his godson learning the Patronus Charm. It was not something that Sirius liked to dwell on; wishing that Harry's only complete memory of his parents was a happier one than that.

"It is true that his duel with James ended in the killing curse, and Voldemort also used the spell against Lily when she attempted to defend her son. However, it is possible that he had, for lack of a better term, tinkered with the curse, including a facet of the spell that is used to create a time turner. Tom was an experienced Arithmancer in school, much as James was, and it appears that he perverted the spell in such a way as to send the target forward in time. In this case, he sent the targets forward by fifteen years for a purpose only known to him, and that is the spell that we detected at Godric's Hollow on Halloween."

"That means he sent their bodies forward in time?" Remus breathed, "We never recovered them, we all assumed that they'd been destroyed with the house."

"We were wrong," Dumbledore replied simply, "Lily and James were sent forward instead. And according to Tom's calculations they would be dead upon arrival. However he failed to take into account the baby in its crib. It has formerly been postulated that Lily cast a shield spell based on her love of Harry to protect him from the killing curse. However, I believe now that Harry himself utilised a similar spell on his parents, and although the curse did hit them and send them outside of time, it was allayed by Harry's own instinctive spell, which allowed them to recover to full health while effectively being held in stasis. The spell had several nasty side effects, including memory loss, which has turned out to be temporary. For the past few months, they have been living in a small cottage that only I know of."

"They're alive?" Sirius gasped, his mind whirling, "They're alive and you didn't tell Harry? You didn't tell us?"

"There were reasons why I did not at first…"

"Of course, you had to prove who they were and give them time to remember us all, but the fact is that they're alive!" Remus burst out, "Do you know what this will mean to Harry? What it means to us?"

"Can we see them? Are they here?" Sirius added, and Dumbledore nodded, getting up. There was a wrinkle of worry on his forehead, but he headed for the door, saying over his shoulder that James and Lily were waiting downstairs. The moment the door closed, Sirius turned to hug Remus, who clung just as tightly. Their heads spinning, they waited for the return of their lost friends.

There was a creak outside the door and then James was standing there, exactly as they remembered, not a day older. The look on his face would have been funny at any other time. It came to them how much older they looked - the curse of the werewolf and Azkaban had marked each man deeply - while their friends had remained twenty-six. James wore plain robes, and looked startlingly normal for someone Sirius had mentally buried fifteen years ago.

"You're old!" James exclaimed, and Sirius' bark like laugh resounded in the room. Remus chuckled and shook his head. Some things never changed.

"You're still tactless," Remus rejoined, and Lily pushed her husband aside to hurry in. She too had a moment of shock, but that was over quickly and she was on the bed hugging them both, her long red hair as soft as they remembered, and her arms just as strong.

"Lily, it's so good to see you," Sirius murmured, "Harry is going to be over the moon. Are you all right? You weren't hurt by Voldemort?"

"I'm alright," Lily smiled and sat on the foot of the bed while James took his turn hugging them hard, slapping backs the way he used to, though he was a lot more gentle with Sirius than was his wont. He looked worried when he pulled back and Sirius rolled his eyes.

"Don't start Prongs," he warned the newly returned man. James had a tendency to overreact when someone was unwell. What with the damage that Sirius used to garner on the Quidditch pitch and Moony's periodic illnesses, he'd had more than ample opportunity to exercise that tendency. James sighed and sat in the abandoned armchair. He eyed the two men on the bed and grinned a little, the familiar lopsided grin winning returning ones from his friends.

"I see you two finally got a clue. I bet Dumbledore was surprised. He never said anything to us about this," the easy tone was reassuring, and Remus shrugged.

"It's none of his business," the reply startled James, but Lily smiled in agreement. She touched Sirius foot to get his attention.

"I'm sorry…"

"Don't," Sirius growled, "I won't hear it. The past is the past, Lily, don't make it worse."

He didn't want to hear protestations of sadness about Azkaban. He'd gotten used to people avoiding the subject, which was fine, or Harry's approach of quiet acceptance and support. His godson had never feared or pitied him, not once they'd worked out who was the real traitor to his family. The few times that Sirius had flashed back to the prison in Harry's presence there had been nothing but gentle strength and dignity offered to him. In many ways his godson was older than he, something the illegal Animagus was only just beginning to realise. The belated pity from the friends he'd gone to prison for, and the reopening of old wounds was not something he was strong enough to deal with now, and the reluctant acceptance in Lily's face was a relief to him.

"So when will Harry get here?" trust Remus to change the subject, and Sirius relaxed into his pack mates' side. The conversation was shallow and touching on superficialities only, but a deep and meaningful session had never been their style. For the Marauders actions spoke louder than words, and in time they'd regain the easy camaraderie they'd once had.

"We're going to him," James replied, his eyes shadowed. Remus frowned and glanced at the man leaning on him. He could see that the idea of the Potters visiting the Dursley's was not going over well with him either and looked back at his miraculous friends.

"James, I don't know much about the Dursley's, but I do know that they aren't a very welcoming family," the words were cautious, the warning blatant. Both men knew that Harry was hiding something about the Dursley's from them, and hadn't been able to find out what.

"There was an incident in his third year with an aunt," Sirius added, "She wasn't exactly complimentary about you two. Harry won't talk about it, but the last thing he needs right now is the added stress."

"You know, I never thought I'd be taking advice about my own son from you, Padfoot," James voice also held a note of warning and Padfoot looked at him in surprise. Surely the man wasn't stupid enough to think that Harry had lived in a bubble while his parents were presumed dead. There was a big difference between the personality of a happy baby and that of a teenage celebrity.

"We're not going as ourselves," Lily broke the tension, one hand reaching out to James. Her husband clasped it gently, some of the tension leaving him. The action was one they'd seen hundreds of times during Lily's pregnancy, as James had been wound tighter than normal in concern for his wife and child.

"What do you mean, not yourselves? Who else do you plan to be?" Sirius let his bewilderment show, and James sighed.

"Dumbledore thinks it would be a good idea to go in disguise as a couple of body guards. We'll use our middle names and spend the rest of Harry's visit with the Dursley's getting to know him a bit better before telling him who we are," James recounted what had to be Dumbledore's plan with simplicity, "We can't suddenly reveal our presence to the Wizarding world just yet, and … it might be a good idea to get to know Harry before we reveal ourselves. That way we'll know best how to help him over the shock."

"Harry hates being lied to," Remus shook his head, "And with the two of you alive the charm at the Dursley's is redundant… I think… either way, he deserves the truth now."

"It's only for a fortnight, and Dumbledore wouldn't suggest it if he thought it would hurt Harry," Lily murmured, "Then we'll bring him here. We can tell him together."

"The hell with that, I'll tell him right now," Sirius frowned, and tried to get out of bed. James leapt up to restrain him, and he was too weak at the moment to fight his way free. For a moment he was back at the Ministry, being dragged away to prison and he fought wildly, exhausting himself. There was shouting and things got very confusing. The familiar darkness took him away, and when he finally woke, Lily and James - or Beth and Wulfric - had been with Harry for three days. Dumbledore had placed a complete block on all owls to Harry's neighbourhood and there was no way to tell Harry the truth. Sirius found himself reluctantly resigned to waiting, and hoping his godson would forgive him this breach of trust.

0o0o0o0


	3. potters incognito

**Chapter three: Potters incognito.**

Sirius had been right about the less than welcoming aspect of the Dursley's, James mused as he sat beside Lily on the floral and uncomfortable couch. They were glaring at the Headmaster, shifting in their seats uneasily and protesting that they hadn't done anything wrong from the moment Dumbledore arrived. The house was too warm - the scorching summer sun had once again browned the grass and wilted the gardens, and the pictures of his nephew Dudley on the wall were disconcerting to say the least. He was really hoping that his own son hadn't emulated his cousins' example. As a baby Harry had been a little chubby, but he'd always been very active and up for anything. Lily had never appeared worried about his weight or healthy appetite, and the sixteen month old toddler that had chased him around the house shouting 'dad' and turning his hair green was certainly not slothful. He was also gone, stolen from them by time and the Dark Lord, which was just one more reason on the ever-growing list to exterminate the foul Wizard.

It was obvious that Vernon had done well for himself over the years, and Dudley was following in his fathers' girth. Petunia had been almost unrecognisable, her bony figure and pinched face very different from the slender girl she'd been at their wedding. She was glaring at them as if they'd just tracked dragon dung into her sterile house, and James made a mental note to try that sometime, provided he could get his hands on some. He wondered how on earth Harry had managed to cultivate any kind of magical ability, living in uncomfortable Muggle sterility, rather than the comfortable friendly chaos that magic thrived upon. At his side, Lily was vibrating like a tuning fork. Ever since they'd recovered their memories of each other and Harry, their one goal had been to get to their sons side. Now that they were mere seconds away from doing so the tension was almost unbearable.

Vernon Dursley finally stopped spluttering protests, and Petunia seemed to have given in to Dumbledore's demands. The old Wizard was more than a match for these Muggles, and James was not surprised that they hadn't been able to counter his arguments. Wulfric and Beth would be installed in the spare room and watch over Harry for the last fortnight of his visit.

"Harry Potter!" Vernon roared without getting up from his seat. There was a soft noise from upstairs and then the stair creaked as someone descended. The door opened and James was tempted to hold his breath as tightly as Lily was holding his hand. They both gasped in shock as their baby appeared, as did Dumbledore. No matter what they had been expecting, this was not it. The teen that stepped through the door was painfully thin, deathly pale and sleep deprived. The clothes that hung from his frame were far too large to have been his even when they were new. The only sign that he was James and Lily's son lay in his untameable black hair, and the vivid green eyes that were his mothers' legacy.

"This is what you call doing nothing?" Lily spat in horror at her sister, and James realised that Petunia had meant it literally. His sister in law had done nothing to stop Harry from getting himself into such a state. Merlin only knew when the boy in front of him had last eaten a decent meal, let alone slept well.

"My Aunt has provided me with a home and food," Harry's voice cut through the shouts like a whiplash, "She is not the cause of my…discomfort."

There was silence, and Harry turned very cynical eyes on the Headmaster. James cringed at the knowledge in that look and wondered how the hell Dumbledore had managed to sell them on such a simplistic reunion scenario. The Headmaster looked a little daunted himself, something that James had never thought he'd see, but rallied to the challenge as always.

"If your discomfort is so great, then perhaps your lessons with your Potions Master should resume," there was a wealth of unspoken words there, and Harry's lips twisted in a parody of a smile.

"Perhaps," the word hung in the air for a moment and he turned his attention to his disguised parents, sitting on the couch.

"Harry, this is Wulfric and Beth. They are members of the Order and will be staying with you until you can travel to Headquarters," Dumbledore's introduction was plain, and Harry nodded politely in their direction, "I am pleased to inform you that your Quidditch ban has been lifted, and that your OWL results will arrive in due time."

"Thank you sir," Harry said politely, his face a neutral mask, "That is good news."

James couldn't tell if Harry was telling the truth or not, but either way, he wasn't about to challenge the cold stranger in front of him. His little boy had been warm and affectionate, and just starting to assert his independence when they'd all been attacked. Whatever was causing his discomfort now - a euphemism that James hated already - evidently was affecting his behaviour as well.

"Shall I show them up to the guest room Aunt Petunia?" Harry turned to look at his Aunt, who nodded stiffly, her eyes looking through him as if he wasn't there. Lily got to her feet, and James rose with her, his hand still fastened in hers. That got him a curious look from his son, but the teen merely turned and led the way out of the room.

There was a snowy white owl sitting at the top of the stairs, and Harry offered an arm for her to perch on. He accepted the note she held in her beak, and pocketed it without glancing at it. James suspicions were raised and then confirmed by Harry's next words.

"It's alright Hedwig. Beth and Wulfric are in the Order."

So the note had been a call for help, and the owl had waited at the top of the stairs in order to hear his shouted command. James was impressed with his sons' resourcefulness and planning. Dumbledore had said that Harry was well aware of the danger of Death Eater attacks and quite skilled at Defence. James hadn't realised that those skills were applied even in his Aunts home. Did the boy ever have time to relax and be a normal careless teen, or was he constantly on the edge, living on his nerves? These questions joined the thousands of others swirling in James brain as they passed a room full of toys, gadgets and clothes, then a closed door with a lot of locks and a cat flap. The door opposite opened onto a small yet lavishly decorated spare room, with a double bed and small window. Harry stood aside to let them in, and then entered himself closing the door and raking them with a stare that had them speechless.

"I assume that you're familiar with Muggle living, or Dumbledore wouldn't have put you here. The Dursley's are afraid of magic, and any mention or use of it is forbidden by their rules. That is something I expect you to respect while you are under their roof. The last thing I need is to play referee between your world and theirs. Please make yourselves comfortable. My room is the one with all the locks on it. I'll be there if you require anything."

Hedwig hooted at them once and Harry's mouth curled in a lopsided smile before he stepped out once more and shut the door softly behind them. Lily hit it with a privacy spell before throwing herself into James arms and sobbing softly in shock. He buried his face in his wife's hair and let his own tears fall. Their happy baby boy was unrecognisable in this implacable stranger.

0o0o0o0

The next fortnight was difficult. The Dursley's were not subtle about their resentment of Lily and James presence, and Dudley clearly proved by his less than intelligent selfish behaviour that he didn't understand the first thing about the whole situation. It had taken every scrap of self-control for James not to hex the Muggles as hard as he could.

It was obvious from the miscues and awkward silences that the Dursley's were restraining themselves from giving Harry a hard time. His son helped out in the kitchen or with the cleaning duties without direction, which was more than Dudley did. Lily voiced the opinion that Harry was merely following some sort of old and well established routine and after few hours of scrutiny, James could see it too. His son was very methodical in his cleaning, working to a pattern that had been long ingrained.

When not working for his Aunt, Harry was in his room, reading through book after book and making copious notes. He had obviously inherited Lily's brains, something that she was proud of. However, the fact that Harry's room was so small and airless was only adding to the teen's pallor. James and Lily ended up dragging him out to sit in the backyard for his reading. They sat close by, and watched as Harry lost himself in his project. When they'd offered to help with whatever he was working on he'd politely refused.

It was at night, however, that the real problems arose. Harry had nightmares, ones that caused him to wake the household with his screams and cries. Sometimes he laughed in his sleep, a high-pitched deranged noise that was worse than his cries for mercy. Twice he burst from his room to run for the loo, retching and heaving until he was empty. Lily had tried to help, to mother him a little, but each attempt was politely brushed aside. Harry would escort them both from his room - there was no way that James was going to let Lily deal with the stubbornness of their son alone - and retreat to deal with the aftermaths by himself. They knew for a fact that he didn't go back to sleep, as they once stood outside his door for a night, while the light burned inside and pages rustled.

Hedwig was another enigma. Harry spoke to her as if she was a Human, and often she seemed to reply with hoots, coos and gestures. She was often found on his shoulder or knee and she had the tendency to glare at them if they got too close. The owl was very possessive of her human and Harry seemed to appreciate the attention she lavished on him. It twisted James' heart that his son would rather turn to his pet than to his relatives or 'bodyguards' for company and comfort.

Four days into their sojourn with Harry, Lily had enough of looking at the ill-fitting clothes and dragged their bewildered charge and James to the nearest shopping centre. She and James had both insisted that he choose at least five completely new outfits, and then Lily added to the confusion by insisting that he try everything on. It was painfully obvious that Harry had never chosen new Muggle clothes for himself, though James was proud to say that his son had an innate sense of style. He chose clothes that looked good, would allow for growth and would last well. James also noticed that they were made of hard wearing materials. He wondered why that was.

The Dursley's were clearly Not Happy about Harry's new wardrobe and immediately took Dudley out on a shopping spree, returning with ten times what Harry had allowed Lily to pressure him in to buying, with a lot of expensive label brand clothes. Harry obviously didn't care, and Dudley's needling on the subject eventually tapered off. His whale of a cousin was not the most subtle nor bright of people but even he knew better than to escalate into physical goads when Harry had two very vigilant bodyguards.

By the end of the fortnight they were more than ready to go back to Grimmauld place. Harry was a little less standoffish. He'd never been rude to either of his guards; in fact he'd made a point of being particularly polite to them. He'd played the part of host with a maturity that James hadn't had at sixteen, and now and then he'd put aside his reserve enough to talk quietly with them about Quidditch or various spells he'd learned. In those short chats Lily and James caught a glimpse of the real Harry - an extremely shy teen that was grappling with the world and his place in it.

They port keyed to Grimmauld place, appearing in a narrow lane close by and walking to Sirius' house. Harry was painfully eager to be there, though he was too polite to brush aside their guardianship of him. The peeling front door opened for him at a touch and Harry hurried in, putting his trunk carefully to one side and hurrying down the murky hall towards the kitchen. As they had yet to tell him their true identity, Lily and James hurried after, intending to pull him aside before Sirius or Remus could talk to him.

The kitchen was full of red headed people, and Harry greeted the lanky teen leaning against the table eating an apple first.

"Ron!" there was genuine warmth in Harry's voice, and his call soon had him enveloped in a round of hugs and questions. Lily and James quickly joined a name to each person in the kitchen - the twins Fred and George, Ron and his sister Ginny, and their mother Mrs Weasley. It was the latter than noticed the two of them standing in the doorway, and she turned to Harry with a smile while her twin sons ruffled Harry's hair.

"Who's this?" she asked and Harry looked back over his shoulder at them, before turning to answer. The change in his demeanour was incredible. The polite, reserved host of the past fortnight was gone, replaced by a happy teenager, being welcomed into his family's embrace. Molly Weasley had fussed over him as a mother might, and Harry had leaned into her touch, his eyes bright, a very marked contrast to his response to Lily's attempts to mother him.

"Beth and Wulfric. They're the Order members that got stuck with baby sitting me for the last fortnight," the reply was not intended to be cruel, and if they'd been the random strangers that Harry thought they were it wouldn't have bothered them. The Weasley's reactions were not as positive, however, and Mrs Weasley made it clear with her derisive sniff that she didn't think they'd done enough. Harry hadn't lost any further weight and had some colour in his cheeks, but he was still looking rather sickly, especially compared to the lanky Weasley teens. He was barely taller than the daughter, something that he'd already been teased about.

"Are they responsible for the new clothes?" Ginny tugged at the sleeve of the dark red t-shirt he was wearing and Harry nodded.

"You look very smart, dear," Mrs Weasley bussed him on the cheek, "Lunch will be ready in a moment, and then Sirius will be getting up."

"He's allowed out of bed?" Harry's eager tone made everyone smile, "I haven't been able to write to him because of the blackout that Dumbledore enforced."

"He gets up after lunch and goes to bed after dinner," Ron confirmed, "Professor Lupin is probably with him at the moment."

"Before you have lunch, Harry, we need to talk," James took the opportunity to interject. Sirius would undoubtedly keep his promise about telling Harry the truth the moment he saw him, and if they were to avoid a worse scene than was necessary, then it was best to get it over with now. Wondering why it was that he felt so nervous, James led the way to the study on the second floor with Harry behind him and Lily bringing up the rear.

0o0o0o0


	4. revelations

**Chapter four: Revelations**

Harry had been desperately glad to find the Weasley's in the kitchen at Headquarters. He'd missed his friend the way you'd miss a limb, and Molly Weasley's motherly form was always a welcome sight. He was also hoping to see some improvement in Sirius health. His godfather's brush with death had knocked the last of the teenage surety out of Harry's head, forcing a sort of maturity that would make him almost unrecognisable as the same boy to his teachers at the start of the next school year. That was in the future though, and Harry would not realise that for some time to come. In the meantime he was looking forward to spending time with family, even if they were a family created by his heart and not blood.

Beth and Wulfric had been pleasant guests. He'd been uncomfortable with the amount of attention they paid to him, and when Beth had tried mothering him once or twice it had taken all his self-control not to react ungratefully, but on the whole they'd gotten along pretty well. He'd had Hedwig go to Gringotts after the shopping spree Beth had insisted on and withdrawn money to cover the cost of the clothes they'd bought for him. There had almost been a huge row over it, and Harry had had to threaten to go back to wearing the hand me downs before they would give in. He was hoping that they weren't about to bring this subject up again now. He didn't take charity, not even from the Weasley's.

The study on the second floor was clean and the curtains were open, admitting the heat from the summer sun. The house had a different feel to it since Kreacher had died, and Harry was glad for that. The last thing Sirius needed was to be trapped in a gloomy place for his recovery. He made a mental note to get a bit of cleaning done while he was here - it was the least he could do for his godfather.

He was bought back to the present by a touch to his arm, and he jumped, before smiling apologetically at Beth. He chose to sit in an armchair near the door, and watched them choose the nearest couch, sitting together and holding hands tightly. Wulfric was running his free hand through his hair in a rather characteristic gesture, and Beth was fiddling with her hem. He watched them exchange glances, holding a conversation with their eyes, before Wulfric blew out a breath and turned to face him.

"We haven't been entirely honest with you Harry," Wulfric started and Harry folded his arms over his chest uneasily, "There are some things about us that you need to know, but it's hard to know where to begin."

Harry resisted the urge to quote the Sound of Music at him, which had been Dudley's favourite video when they were three. Harry had heard enough of that soundtrack from where he was doing his chores, or locked in his cupboard to be able to sing along note perfect.

"Fifteen years ago, You-Know-Who came to our house," Wulfric took a deep breath and Harry interrupted.

"His name is Voldemort," he knew his voice was cold, but he hated the way people grovelled over something as stupid as a name, "Actually his true name is Tom Marvolo Riddle and he's older than Hagrid. If you can't call him what he's become, at least call him what he was."

This was going to be Harry's major campaign for the year, and he was determined to succeed. He might not be able to break the habits the adults had gotten into, but he'd be able to influence his peers. Wulfric gaped at him, then smiled, nodding in appreciation.

"Tom Riddle, then," the bodyguard nodded, "Fifteen years ago, he came to our house. He used a perverted form of the time turner charm on my wife and I to send us forward into the future, and then he tried to murder our son."

"Is he alright?" Harry asked, his heart constricting with worry for a child he'd most likely never met. It seemed Voldemort's cruelty had unplumbed depths.

"Yes, he's grown into a fine young man," Beth spoke up, a proud glow in her eyes, "Somehow he survived the attempt and the destruction of our house. However when we arrived in what was to us the future, he was no longer at the house and we had no memory of him, each other, or even ourselves."

"Amnesia," Harry mumbled, suspicions stirring in his mind. The tale of the unnamed baby could have been his own, but for the fact that he remembered the green of the curse that killed his mother every time a Dementor came near him.

"Professor Dumbledore found us and a few months ago we finally regained all of our memories. He thinks its time to introduce us to our son," Beth pulled her wand, and cast a spell, first over Wulfric and then herself. Harry's suspicions were confirmed seconds later as the long red hair and green eyes of his mother appeared, followed by the wild black hair and dark blue of his father's eyes. There on the couch in front of him sat Lily and James Potter.

"I remembered your death," Harry blurted stupidly, "This isn't possible!"

"Harry, it's possible that the green flash you thought was for Lily was actually for you," his father said in a very gentle tone. It took a moment for the statement to sink in and then he bolted upright in horror.

"You knew!" he almost shouted, "All this time, you knew what I thought! That you'd been killed because of me! If you knew what I heard when the Dementors get close then you must have been told lots of things, all about me and Sirius and Remus! Do you know how long I've wanted you to be alive, what I would have done to make that happen? You must have known, you're my parents and you didn't tell me! And what was the last fortnight supposed to be? A trial? You thought you'd see if I was worth claiming as kin? What if I hadn't been? Would you ever have told me?"

"Harry James!" James snapped, his blue eyes flashing in anger, "That's a rotten thing to say! How could you…"

"How could I?" Harry's voice was heading towards a hysterical pitch but he couldn't seem to stop it, to stop the words and feeling that were gushing out of him like a burst pipe, "How could you? Does Sirius at least know? Did you at least tell him that he didn't hand you over to Voldemort?"

"We spoke to your godfather before we came to see you," James snapped, "Behave yourself boy!"

"Behave? Fine! Watch me behave!" Harry roared, furious and confused and so many other things all at once. He was out the door before anyone could stop him, hit the stairs running and started climbing up. Last year he would have tried to leave, to run out the front door, but even in this state he knew better to risk others with his hot-headed actions. He climbed until the worn carpet gave way to bare wood, and until that gave way to a rusty spiral staircase. He burst through the trapdoor at the top of the staircase, slammed it shut behind him and shot across the circular space he found himself in, fetching up against the far wall and sliding to the floor with a groan of misery. In the space of ten minutes he'd gone from an orphan to having parents. Right now they were probably ready to disown him again.

0o0o0o0


	5. surprise

**Chapter five: Surprise!**

He came back to himself with a start. At some point Ron had found him and joined him silently on the floor. Harry had slipped sideways as the night wore on and was resting against Ron's shoulder, his forehead tucked into the crook of Ron's warm neck. Ron was asleep, his light snores ruffling Harry's hair, and his presence and support were worth more to Harry than all the gold in Gringotts. Ron had put up with his temper last year - which seemed to have survived the summer intact - and had fought beside him at the Ministry. Harry knew he could never repay the debts he owed his friend, and wondered what Ron would think if he knew Harry felt that he owed Ron something.

Ron snorted in his sleep and shifted, giving Harry the opportunity to sit up. It was dim in here, whatever the walls and ceiling were made of was extremely grimy and sunlight only came through in random pinpricks. There was something large sitting in the centre of the room, and Harry counted himself lucky that he hadn't run into it last night in his blind dash across the room.

"Harry?" Ron's voice was thick with sleep and he grunted an acknowledgement, sitting up properly and rubbing grimy hands over his face. Ron squinted at him in the dim light and then laughed.

"You look all streaky!" he exclaimed and Harry grinned back before launching himself at his friend and doing his best to rub his dirty hands all over Ron. The red head yelled and wrestled with him, both teens rolling over and over each other as they tried to get the upper hand. By the time they came to a stop they were covered in dust, giggling and snorting madly. Ron ruffled his hands through Harry's hair one last time and got off the smaller teen, reaching down to pull his friend upright.

"I guess you heard," Harry sighed when he caught Ron watching him closely. The Gryffindor nodded and stuck his hands in his pockets, his eyes not leaving Harry's face.

"I'm such an idiot, Ron," Harry sighed, "How could I say that to them?"

"We didn't hear the details, just the yelling. Mum came storming up to tell someone off - it wasn't real clear whom, and you streaked past like a blur. Your dad came thundering out moments later and collided with her. By the time the dust had settled you were upstairs somewhere and Mum was shrieking in shock. Sirius came out of his room and there was a huge row right there on the landing," Ron shook his head, "I didn't wait around to hear all the details, I thought I'd be better off looking for you."

"Thanks," Harry sighed, "It… it means a lot that you would…"

He trailed off and Ron nodded, grinning lightly at him. They weren't much for emotional talks - that was Hermione's area of expertise - but both teens knew without saying that they'd be there for each other, no matter what.

"I just lost it Ron," Harry scuffed a toe through the dust, "I said some pretty rotten things to them, and then ran away. I mean, I'm really happy they're alive, and that Sirius and Remus have them back but… all my life my parents have been strangers to me, people that I got told stories about. Now they're right here, where they can see me, and I don't know what to do."

"Why do you have to do anything? Look, I can't imagine what its like, but Harry, you don't have to impress them. Mum and Dad love us all no matter what - even Percy. That's what parents do, you know?" Ron patted Harry's shoulder, raising a cloud of dust and they laughed, the mood broken. Harry sneezed and turned; looking for the trap door he'd entered by.

"Come on, before we choke on this stuff," he muttered and together they hauled the door up and climbed through. He let Ron go first down the stairs, content to let his friend take the lead, and marvelled that he'd climbed through the two-storey attic with all of its interesting - and no doubt forbidden - boxes without noticing. They were soon back in the main area and had just rounded the corner when Mrs Weasley stepped out of the room she and her husband shared.

"Goodness!" she exclaimed and Harry muffled a laugh. They were both grey with dust, and had several finger smears on their faces and necks where they'd wrestled with each other. His glasses were positively filthy and he was contemplating getting into the shower with them still on, just to get them clean. She pulled her wand out and moments later they were dust free, skin tingling where the charm had cleaned it too. Harry's glasses had even been polished.

"Ron, I need a word with you. Go and have a shower, Harry," Molly beckoned her youngest son to follow her, and Harry hurried to get clean clothes and a towel. He was in and out of the bathroom quickly, and Ginny brushed past him on her way in as he headed for his shared room. Ron stood up as he entered and dumped his dirty clothes in the basket.

"Ginny's in there," Harry smiled when Ron groaned and threw himself back onto his bed theatrically, moaning about not having any hot water for his shower. Harry shrugged and declined a chess game to go look in on Sirius.

His godfather's door was closed, and he tapped on it softly before opening it and slipping inside. If Sirius was still asleep then Harry didn't want to disturb him, and if he were awake then they'd have a nice talk. The curtains were half open, and Harry peered at the bed, unable to figure out what he was seeing. There was a movement and he gasped as the two men kissing on the bed came clearly into focus. They jolted apart and Harry gaped at his godfather and Remus.

There was a moment of silence, during which the two older men blushed and looked at each other with worry. Harry saw fear in the eyes that met his and realised that what he said next would either make or break his relationship with these two.

"You're in love?" it was half question, half statement, and Sirius nodded, gripping Remus hand tightly. The werewolf had been half lying on top of him, indulging him in an early morning kiss when Harry walked in without knocking properly. His former professor sat up now, not breaking the grip their hands had on each other.

"Yes we are," Remus said quietly, "Very much so."

Harry felt a smile crawl all over his face, and he let instinct guide him. In moments he was hugging them both, mumbling words of approval and being hugged back. He'd worried that they were so alone, and had been for so long. Both men needed someone who understood their past, who would know their secrets without needing to pry and ask. That they'd found it in each other was perfect - neither man would have to learn to share his friend with someone else.

"I'll knock louder next time, and count to ten," he teased as he pulled back. Sirius laughed and slapped at him lightly while Remus smiled and relaxed.

"Don't get cheeky Cub," Sirius warned, "All I have to do is tell the twins I saw you looking at Ginny…"

"I'll be good," Harry promised hastily, "Promise!"

"Leave him alone Snuffles," Remus chided, and Sirius pouted like a small child. Harry sat on the edge of the bed and took his godfathers free hand in his. There was colour in his face and a twinkle in his eyes that had been missing ever since he escaped Azkaban. If that was what loving his friend did then Harry was not going to say or do anything that might jeopardise the relationship.

"Thanks, Moony," he smiled at the werewolf, and was granted one of Remus' shy smiles back.

"I knew it - you're ganging up on me," Snuffles whimpered pathetically and Harry winked at his co-conspirator happily. Remus winked back and Sirius squeezed Harry's hand to get his attention.

"Are you alright, Cub? We heard the row," his godfather looked at him closely and Harry sighed. He had a feeling he'd let these two down by reacting so poorly. After all, they had lived with the Potters long before Harry had, and knew exactly what he was missing. He should have at least tried to be more mature about welcoming his parents back to life, but at the same time a part of him was whining that he was still a teenager - why did he have to do all the work. It was so confusing!

"I don't know what to think," he confessed, "It's all too much. I'm so happy that they're alive, and at the same time so angry they didn't tell me. At least with them here, you'll be able to clear your name Snuffles."

"I don't think they'll be going out in public, Cub," Sirius said gently, "But that's ok, I can wait a while. Harry… we wanted to tell you…."

"Dumbledore had a block up for all the owls," Harry interrupted, "I know why you didn't. It's ok, really. I just wish I hadn't been such an ass yesterday."

"It will take a bit of adjustment from you all," Remus spoke up, "James and Lily have to get used to the idea that the baby they held in their arms is no longer around. It must be hard for them too."

"I guess," Harry hadn't thought of that, and made up his mind to be a little more patient. He'd apologise when he saw them next, and they could all take it from there. Sirius tugged him into a hug, and Harry felt Remus join it as well. He'd only had a few hugs in his life, but he knew this one was special - it spoke of safety and protection. He smiled when they let go and got up.

"I'm going downstairs," he headed for the door, "I'll see you both later?"

He was waved out the door, and closed it quietly behind him. As he headed downstairs to the kitchen he reflected that he couldn't take many more surprises this week.

0o0o0o0


	6. owls, brooms and nightmares

**Chapter six: owls, brooms and nightmares**

Molly was making breakfast in the kitchen and he walked to stand beside her, watching her work for a moment before looking up at her face. Motherhood had left subtle marks upon it - smile lines and frown lines alike - but there wasn't a thing he'd change about her. She had been the first mother he'd known - Aunt Petunia didn't count in the least - and though he'd been too old to be mothered like Ron and his brothers and sister had been, Harry had always appreciated her efforts. If she were mad at him for yelling at his real mum and dad, she'd let him know in her own special way.

"Stop looking so worried dear," Molly put her wand in her pocket, startling Harry from his thoughts, "While I don't like the way you were yelling yesterday, I understand that you were feeling a little overwhelmed."

"Have I ever thanked you for all you've done?" Harry wondered aloud, "Because it's always meant a lot to me. I mean it."

"Yes, well, dear, I hope you didn't mind that I mothered you a bit. You and Ron have been such a double act, and you took such wonderful care of Ginny in her first year," Molly put an arm around his shoulders and Harry leaned into her side for a moment, his own arm going around her waist hesitantly.

"I didn't mind," his throat was aching a bit, and he took a shaky breath, "In fact, I was lucky. Still am."

"Well, I hope you don't think that we'll forget you now that you have your parents back, dear. They can borrow you for a while, but you'll always be one of my boys. You'll always be a Weasley."

The statement made Harry's heart soar and he beamed at his best friend's mother in pure relief. He had been worried that the Weasley's would wash their hands of him now that his parents had returned. His self-confidence had never been strong enough to figure out why they seemed to like him. His status as an orphan hadn't been the reason then. Molly hugged him properly and then sniffed before turning back to the stove with a muttered direction to 'set the table dear'.

He was all too glad of the chance to get himself under some sort of control. Just as he assembled the cutlery Ron ambled in and started gathering plates. Minutes later people started arriving in the kitchen, with Ginny the first to appear and Harry's parents the last. The casual conversation that Ginny and Arthur had been holding stopped as if a switch had been thrown, and Harry squared his shoulders.

"I'm sorry for my behaviour yesterday. It was uncalled for."

His voice fell into the silence with a quiet authority. James nodded in acceptance, and Lily came to kiss him on the cheek, an action that made him squirm in embarrassment. Arthur cleared his throat and that broke the tableau as everyone sat down and started the usual morning routine of breakfast. Remus appeared towards the end for a tray for himself and Sirius, and Harry smiled at the werewolf. The man ruffled his hair on the way past - an unusual action that was watched curiously by the whole table - and disappeared with a word of thanks to Molly.

Before Harry could do more than smooth his hair back down there was a muffled hoot from the scullery and Arthur got up to check the owl mail. Hedwig fluttered through the door the moment he opened it and landed on Harry's shoulder with a letter. He thanked her and offered her his bacon rinds while he opened the envelope.

"Hermione is still under house arrest," Harry muttered to Ron, "She says she'll see us on the train."

Hermione's parents had been appalled that their daughter would leave school illegally and travel all the way to London where she then got into 'some kind of brawl with hooligans' was the direct quote she'd relayed to Harry. She was forbidden to leave their house except with them as an escort, and had therefore been forbidden to visit with Harry and Ron during the holidays. Harry had made Hedwig available to her so she could purchase books by owl mail, and send letters to the Weasley's as well. Hedwig hadn't minded the extra flights, but always examined him anxiously when she returned, as if checking that the Dursley's hadn't hurt him.

"Good thing her parents can't write us Howlers," Ron replied and Hedwig hooted in agreement. The red head smiled at the owl on Harry's shoulder and reached over to ruffle her feathers. Harry caught his parents watching the exchange curiously, and folded the letter away. It had been hard enough to put up with the stares of strangers, but being stared at by people he knew - or was supposed to know - was almost unbearable, especially in the holidays. At least at school he was used to the stares and whispered comments, though he hated it.

"Your OWL results are here, boys!" Arthur announced as he re-entered the kitchen and both Harry and Ron groaned.

"How many T for Troll's are you allowed to get and still stay in school?" Harry asked the room at large and accepted his letter from Arthur with a quiet thanks. Ron was holding his envelope by the tips of his fingers at arms length.

"Don't be so melodramatic," Molly scolded, a smile lurking in her eyes. Ron gulped and looked at Harry, before ripping open their envelopes together. They read through the list of marks and then swapped them over in silence, perusing each other's. Once that was done they put them together and compared carefully, the tension at the table building, as they gave nothing away. Harry could feel the amusement running through Ron, and was close to snickering himself.

"Well?" Ginny cried impatiently, and they looked up together, surprise drawn comically over their faces.

"What?" they chorused with that perfect timing that only teenage smart aleks could perfect and Molly growled reached over and plucked Harry's letter from his hand while Arthur confiscated Ron's.

"Oh well done, son! Seven OWLs!" Arthur exclaimed, just as Molly beamed at Harry.

"And seven for Harry!" the couple swapped parchments and Ginny hopped up to read over her mothers shoulder.

"You got an OWL in History of Magic, Ron?" she gaped and Ron shrugged. Although he tended to ignore Binns in class, he did the reading, which was in Ron's own words 'kind of interesting', especially if you looked at the tactics and machinations that went on behind the scenes in a lead up to the historic events. Ron loved strategy, which made him such a great chess player.

"I flunked that one," Harry shook his head, "I fell asleep in the exam."

Considering where that nap had led them, he wasn't surprised he'd flunked. Arthur's hand rested on his shoulder for a moment, as he handed Ginny Harry's results.

"Yes, well, it came out alright in the end," Ron's dad sighed, "And you'll know better next time."

"Yes sir," Harry whispered, swallowing hard. Hedwig nibbled on his hair in concern and he reached up to pat her, staring at his plate. She shifted closer and crooned under her breath, a comforting noise that he heard most often after his nightmares. It always had a relaxing effect on him and he rubbed his hair against her feathers in thanks. Not many people could claim an owl for a mother, nor would they want to, but Harry knew he'd been very lucky to receive such a wonderful owl as a gift.

"You got an OWL in Divination, Harry!" Ginny laughed, "How did you do that?"

Harry was pulled out of his thoughts and he shrugged, grinning, as James cleared his throat.

"May I see Harry's marks?" there was a slight edge to his voice, and Ginny looked at him in surprise. Harry had forgotten his parents were even there, as it seemed so natural to share his news with the Weasley's. This was yet another unforeseen pitfall that he'd failed to avoid. He wasn't making a very good start as their son, first yelling at them and then ignoring them. He watched with a heavy heart as Ginny handed his letter over without comment and his parents read it carefully.

"We both got an 'O' in Potions," Ron boasted, "Take that Snape!"

The comment got the conversation out of its awkward silence, and Harry made a mental note to take his results up to Snuffles and Moony after breakfast.

0o0o0o0

His father found him sitting in the front parlour with his godfather after lunch. Harry had been looking the Firebolt over before taking it up to his room. Apparently Dumbledore had left it here for him once the ban had been lifted. His broom servicing kit - a gift from Hermione - was open on the table in front of him and the broom was balanced on his knees as he checked over the tail twigs one by one.

"Nice broom," James bent over to look at it more closely and Harry handed it over to his father without second thought. As a former Seeker, his dad would appreciate the broom the way he did.

"Sirius bought it for me in my third year. Then Hermione told Professor McGonagall, who confiscated it and gave it to Hooch and Flitwick to strip down," Harry grinned at his godfather, "They thought you'd hexed it."

"Not a hope," Sirius shook his head, "I broke out to rescue you, not hex you."

"You weren't tempted?" James asked lightly, handing the broom back. Instantly the congenial atmosphere vanished and Sirius glared at his returned friend.

"Harry is great, he doesn't need hexing," Sirius defended him and Harry put the twig clippers away, taking out the handle polish and a soft rag and starting near the tail. He wasn't going to get involved in this argument, though he could understand why his Dad thought he needed hexing. His behaviour had been less than sterling.

"I didn't mean it like that," James ran a hand through his hair in frustration, and turned to look at his son who was ignoring them both, polishing away diligently. He looked up when James touched his shoulder.

"I'm sorry," the words were said softly and Harry nodded acceptance, glancing at Sirius. His godfather still looked a little cranky, and Harry decided a diversion was in order. He was not going to come between the Marauders if he could help it.

"I nearly killed myself on it the first time," he grinned at the former prisoner, "It's much more responsive than the Nimbus 2000 I learned to play on. The broom just took off and it was three laps later that I managed to get the hang of it."

"Sure, Harry," Sirius obviously didn't believe him, which showed that Harry was a terrible liar, "This from the youngest Seeker Gryffindor has had in a century. You'd better not let this fly into the Whomping Willow - I can't afford to shell out for another top flight broom this year."

"Hey, it wasn't my idea to ruin that broom!" Harry wagged a finger at the other man, "That was the gale, and the Dementors."

"Don't you wag your finger at me young man," Sirius replied with mock testiness, "I am a former Marauder."

"And I'm the Boy Who Lived. I've faced scarier things than you, godfather, even when you were pretending to be the Grim," Harry retorted lightly, and gave a final swipe to the handle. Sirius stuck his tongue out in a very mature reply and Harry grinned, capping the polish and stowing everything back in the kit.

"So when did you join the House team?" James' question reminded them that he was there, and Harry blushed, fiddling with the zipper around the kit for a moment.

"Sort of just after my first flying lesson in First year," he glanced at his dad, "Malfoy - um Lucius Malfoy's son Draco - had a Rememberall that he'd found. It belonged to Neville Longbottom from my house. See we were all lined up for our first flight and Neville lost control of his broom before anyone ever got into the air and when he fell off he broke his wrist. Madam Hooch took him off to the hospital wing and Malfoy was going to chuck the Rememberall up on the roof. I went up to stop him and when he threw it away I caught it."

"Right in front of my office window," Professor McGonagall said from the door, "With no prior flight experience, and on an old clunker to boot. I had him on the ground and signed up before he knew what had hit him."

"Hello Professor!" Harry smiled at his Head of House, and the adults greeted each other. His teacher eyed him significantly and he left them to talk, heading up to his room to put his things away. Ron decoyed him into a game of chess and he settled on the bed easily, relieved to be out from under the scrutiny of the grown ups in the house.

0o0o0o0

That night, Ron shook him awake before the nightmare had a real chance to get hold, and they slept through peacefully after that. Breakfast saw another delivery of letters, this time from the school with the usual booklists and paraphernalia requirements. You were automatically entered for NEWT level studies for any subject you got an OWL in, unless your parents wrote to the school to withdraw you from a subject. As they needed all their subjects to get into Auror training, neither Ron nor Harry had requested such a thing, though Harry only realised after the fact that he would have asked Mrs Weasley to write on his behalf.

Lily made mention at breakfast that he had seemed to sleep well, and Ron had mumbled something just loud enough for his mother to hear. Harry got a pat on the head and extra toast, while Lily fumed that she hadn't been called when he'd woken.

"You can rely on us, son," James was patting his wife on the hand and Harry refrained from pointing out that he'd never had them around to rely on before. It was hard to change the habits of a lifetime, but he didn't say that either.

"We were both back asleep only a few minutes later," Harry shrugged, not meeting anyone's eyes, "It never occurred to me to call for an adult. Poor Ron is used to waking me up by now."

Ron rolled his eyes and put on a martyred expression that no one bought. Mrs Weasley changed the subject by telling her children that she would take them shopping for their school things today, and when Harry asked if they could visit the twins shop as well he got a funny look from his mother.

"Harry, I rather think…" Mrs Weasley said awkwardly and Harry realised he'd done it again, ignored his parents in favour of the family that had adopted him unofficially. He blushed and got up from the table without excusing himself, heading out the door and up the stairs before anyone could stop him. Not wanting to run the risk of disturbing his godfather in some steamy activity, he climbed all the way to the top of the house and into the room where he'd first sought refuge. The dimness was a comfort at first, but then he got curious about the mass in the middle of the room and started rubbing at the wall near one of the pinpricks of light.

It turned out to be glass, and allowed more light through as the grime caked away under the action of his hands. Dust danced in the light and he started enlarging the clean patch, rubbing diligently and ignoring the mess he was making of clothes that had been clean only a few minutes ago. By the time Ron found him, he had cleared one of the lower panes of glass and was working on the one next to it.

"Mum is going to have a fit when she sees you," Ron scolded from the trapdoor, "What in the name of Merlin are you doing?"

"Cleaning the glass?" Harry waved a filthy hand and Ron rolled his eyes in response, "I thought you were off to Diagon Alley first thing?"

"You're coming with us. Your mum and dad will put their disguises back on and we'll all go together. Mum sent me to find you."

"I thought that…" Harry trailed off, not wanting to sound like a whining child. He'd thought that Ron's mum didn't want him along; that maybe being his adopted mother was too hard, and she was glad to hand him back after all.

"Yeah well, mum had a word with them," Ron shrugged, "She has pretty good wards on the kitchen too, because Ginny and I couldn't hear anything."

Harry grinned and followed his friend down the stairs, forgetting about why he'd been cleaning the windows in the first place. Molly once again spotted him as they reached the inhabited floors and scolded him soundly while waving her wand to clean him off. Attracted by the noise, Lily appeared wearing her Beth disguise and frowned at the sight of her son sheepishly toeing the carpet and mumbling apologies to the scolding woman. Molly put her wand away and rubbed Harry's shoulder on her way downstairs, telling them to be ready to leave in five minutes. Ron grabbed his elbow and hauled him along the hall, loudly proclaiming that he wasn't about to let Harry get them in trouble again.

0o0o0o0


	7. shopping for mayhem

**Chapter seven: shopping for mayhem**

James had to catch his son as he literally fell out of the fireplace in the Leaky Cauldron, covered in soot and scowling mightily. James laughed and hit him with a cleaning spell while Harry fished his glasses out and put them on, sighing in relief when his vision cleared.

"I hate fire travel," Harry muttered, "Thanks."

"You'll be learning to Apparate next year, young Potter," Tom called from where he was polishing glasses, "There'll be no holding you back after that!"

James noticed that Harry was instantly the centre of attention, as the patrons turned around to stare at him and whisper comments. He watched as Harry straightened a little and smiled at the bar tender, ignoring the avid looks and not so subtle comments.

"There will be drinks all round on that day, Tom," Harry laughed and Ron stepped out of the fireplace gracefully, followed very quickly by Beth, Ginny and then Molly. Ron squirmed under his mothers cleaning spell while Ginny moved up to shield Harry from some of the whisperers. Molly shooed them all out into the back courtyard and Beth tapped on the bricks, remembering the pattern easily from her own trips to the alley.

"This never gets old," Harry grinned as the bricks shuffled themselves about to form the archway that admitted magic folk to their major London shopping outlet.

"Gringotts first," Molly decreed, and Ron and Harry fell into step behind her and Ginny, happily listing where they wanted to go during the day, and no doubt plotting how to get there. Lily leaned in close to James and asked in a whisper what had been happening at the pub.

"The moment Tom said his name everyone started staring and whispering. Harry just ignored it, as if it were normal," James shook his head, "If it had been me, I'd have told them all to sod off."

"Harry doesn't react to things the same way we would," Lily sighed unhappily and straightened up again. In their talks at bedtime, Lily had revealed how unhappy she was with the way their son had grown up and grown apart from them. James had to agree with his wife. The jolly little chap that they had raised for such a short time was gone, replaced with a stranger who was wise beyond his years one minute, and a normal teen the second after that.

They had heard of the things that Harry had done and had learned to do from Dumbledore, and to some degree from the Marauders, but seeing was believing, and right now Harry seemed to be a bit of an odd duck. James was also fairly sure his son was seriously attracted to his best friend, and that the feeling was mutual. He rather cynically suspected that Molly Weasley had also seen the attachment forming, and was encouraging such a prestigious link. The Weasley's were old Blood, though they had fallen on hard times, and by attaching one of their children to Harry they could reap some of the benefits of his inheritance.

At Gringotts, James insisted they separate, and Harry accompanied his parents to the vault that had been set up as a trust for him without a murmur. James was curious to see how much Harry had spent, and knew that Lily had also wondered about it. He knew that when he had been given access to his schooling vault he'd been a little wild with his spending at first. His father had pulled him aside and pointed out that wild spending today would mean a lack tomorrow, and helped him devise a generous budget.

"Griphook, did the bank re-imburse the Weasley's for my school things last year?" Harry asked as the cart came to a stop.

"It did, Mr Potter, as your letter instructed," the Goblin confirmed and Harry hopped out of the cart nimbly, James following close behind. He offered Lily a gallant hand and watched as the door swung open. The pile in the middle of the vault appeared virtually untouched, despite the fact that Harry had been buying his school supplies from it.

"How often do you withdraw from this account?" Lily asked in astonishment, and Harry shrugged. He grabbed a few handfuls of coins, stuffing them into the worn moneybag that the bank provided to all children when they first came to access a trust account, and headed for the door, not lingering.

"Harry, son, you can take more than that," James caught his arm and whispered, "The trust account receives a deposit semi-annually from our main account. You won't run out."

"I don't need more," Harry shrugged, "This will do me for the year, it always has. I don't need luxuries."

"Define luxuries," Lily spluttered, and Harry struggled to come up with an explanation. Evidently this was another area where Harry's values were skewed from the values that Lily and James took for granted. Part of the problem was that Harry had never seen the need to have more 'things' than others - his childhood had taught him to make do, as well as exercising his inventive side to make up any short falls. Dudley was the one who wanted more all the time, and Harry had hated the greedy light in his cousin's eyes. Once he'd realised that he had some money in the Wizarding world he'd initially been very keen to splurge and treat himself. Second thoughts had suggested that he'd need to save up his money in case of magical emergencies and he'd come up with a budget of sorts that let him have a bit of fun, but not beggar himself.

"Malfoy has fancy robes… Parkinson writes on monogrammed parchment… there's a Ravenclaw that has a gold quill set," he grinned, "I've got all I need and a bit of spending money besides."

He pulled his arm out of James' grasp and climbed back into the cart, thanking Griphook for his patience when the Goblin joined them. James sat in the back again for the trip to their vault, his mind whirling. What about the luxury of casual clothes, books beyond what the school recommended, Quidditch gear and hobbies? His son was old enough to travel to Hogsmede now, didn't he browse the stores there, pick up the usual odds and ends that caught the eye of a wandering teen? Harry's school trunk held everything he owned, and that realisation made James feel a little ill. Beyond his owl and his broom, all of Harry's worldly possessions fit in that trunk. Sure, it had an expansion charm on it, but James had always managed to overload his trunk by the end of the year. Harry's held every schoolbook he'd ever bought and the few clothes he owned and still had room to spare.

Lily made their withdrawal, seeing that James was too stunned to catalogue their vaults contents and remove the appropriate amount. Their vault had of course continued to receive the deposits of his trust account, so there had been a steady increase in their balance over the last fifteen years, despite the trust payments for Harry.

"You alright?" Harry asked as they got out of the cart at the end, looking at him with worried eyes. James nodded stiffly and watched his son withdraw before his eyes, hurrying ahead to his adopted family. His best friend greeted him with a cheerful thump to the arm, and Molly straightened the cloak Harry wore absently. James sighed and followed his stiff backed wife over to the group, wondering how things had gotten so far out of his control. Lily was upset because Molly was the 'mother' that Harry turned to, he was upset because his son didn't seem to think there was anything strange about all the things he lacked, and Harry was upset because … well he couldn't figure his son out, but either way things were not looking up.

This time it was Lily that insisted they split up, and Harry followed them obediently, without so much as a look to say he was disappointed by being split from his friends. He purchased a new set of school robes and the Apothecary kit that was required for potions quickly, before heading to Flourish and Blotts. The bookstore was fairly busy, but James noticed at once that people stopped their own browsing to stare at Harry. One or two even made a point of bumping into him so they could exchange the usual words of apology. Harry pretended once again not to notice the stares or whispers as he and Beth gathered his schoolbooks together. James made a point to pull Harry aside and ask if there were any books that he wanted that weren't on his list, and Harry looked around thoughtfully before picking up one on defence and one on transfiguration.

A quick stop took care of his ink and parchment supplies, as well as a separate detour for treats and food for his owl. James replaced the family owl as well, a fine looking bird with soft grey feathers. Lily was trying to get Harry's opinion on a name for it when the window of Quality Quidditch Supplies blew out, showering the shoppers with glass. People cried out in pain and confusion as Death Eaters appeared all over the alley, sending stunning spells and other more deadly hexes into the crowds.

James and Lily had Harry between them and their wands out before the teen could blink. James hustled the family into the shelter of a doorway while the parents around the alley ferried their children back towards the Leaky Cauldron. If they could get the kids into the well-warded pub they could defend them better. A series of spells hit the walls, roofs and chimneys of the alley shops, apparently designed to reduce the buildings to rubble. Debris were flying everywhere and the shouts and confusion was terrible.

"Harry, head for the pub…" James began when a mother screamed in horror. Her three-year-old child was wandering amongst the chaos, dazed by the noise. The chimney of Eyelops Emporium was toppling slowly, and the little girl was right in its path. Before anyone could react, Harry's wand was pointing out at the street.

"Accio broom," his son's voice was urgent and seconds later a broom was arrowing past the doorway. Harry leapt on as it passed, not even waiting for the broom to hover at his side, as James would have done, flying straight into the path of the falling bricks, the dust and noise obscuring them for a horrible moment. There was a shout and James looked up, spotting his son arrowing away into the sky, the bright blue frock of the girl visible under his arm. As James watched, Harry turned and headed for the pub, as his father had ordered.

He was distracted by Lily shouting stunning spells and joined his efforts to the fray, targeting the cowards who wore masks and attacked people going about their daily lives for a cause that was based on prejudice. Ten minutes into the prolonged attack he realised that there must be a couple of off duty Aurors in the crowd of defenders. There was a definite fighting team in the midst of the battle as perfectly cast and counter pointed spells erupted from first one location and then another. There was a definite rhythm and planning to the casting, as well as a cunning and degree of experience that only a seasoned fighter would have.

"They're making a move," Lily panted and James noted that the Death Eaters that were still upright and capable were definitely gathering into a particular formation despite the best efforts of the remaining defenders of the Alley. Aurors were beginning to arrive, but their presence was too late as the Death Eaters simultaneously cast a final spell before disapparating away.

The Leaky Cauldron crumbled into dust, leaving only the façade that faced Muggle London intact. There was a moment's shocked silence as people struggled to comprehend the damage that spell had caused and then a mother screamed.

"My children!"

James felt sick as he realised that the children they had been trying to defend so ardently had been in the pub. Cries and screams echoed all over the alley, and when Lily moaned their son's name in horror James groaned in echo. He'd sent Harry there, insisted that their son get to safety instead of staying where James could watch over him. He and Lily had been in the thick of the fighting, their past experience too valuable to withhold. Together they'd accounted for quite a few of the Death Eaters that even now were bound on the ground.

Before the grief of the alley could escalate Dumbledore appeared in their midst, carried there by Fawkes. The headmaster shot a plume of smoke into the air, which rapidly formed into a list of names. Pointing his wand at his own throat, Dumbledore spoke the Sonorous charm, and broadcast a message.

"The children are safely at Hogwarts. They arrived on the Knight Bus."

Cheers erupted and James scanned the list anxiously for Harry's name. Ginny Weasley's name was there, and it seemed that everyone else had located their children safe and sound, but Harry and Ron's name was not among those floating in the air and Lily clutched James arm in a painful grip.

There was a shout and two Death Eaters broke from cover, firing spell after spell into the unprepared crowd as they struggled to reach a clear space and apparate to safety. Twin stunning spells shot from a ruined shop front and took them down, James absently recognising the spell work as that of the off duty Aurors that had performed with such stunning accuracy all the way through the fight. There was a shocked silence while people came to terms with this last awful surprise, which was broken by Molly Weasley's command.

"Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley!"

There was a stir, and then the two boys in question emerged from the shop front, stepping over the rubble carefully, the broom he'd used to snatch the girl still in Harry's hand. The red head moved to intercept his mother, while Harry looked around. James stepped forward to get his attention and Harry nodded to him in relief before spotting who he was looking for. James watched in astonishment as Harry approached the owner of the Quidditch shop and offered to pay for the broom he'd appropriated. He was rebuffed firmly, the shop keeper insisting that he keep it and then Molly had him in her arms, with Ron smirking behind his mother and Harry hugging her back enthusiastically.

"They were the Aurors," Lily muttered suddenly, "James, it was Harry and Ron who worked that flawless partnership!"

James gaped at her in astonishment before following her to his son's side. One thing was certain, they'd need to get the full story of Harry's life, and soon. Though Moony and Padfoot were trying to spare their feelings, James could no longer tolerate not knowing everything there was to know about his son. The second thing they'd need to do was to decide on how to keep Harry and Ron from being expelled by the Ministry for all the under-age casting they'd just done.

0o0o0o0


	8. the importance of being Harry

**Chapter eight: the importance of being Harry**

Sirius looked up in surprise as James and Lily burst into the room, a very dusty and pale Harry between them. Remus actually jumped in shock, bumping the chessboard much to the disgust of the chess pieces, which shouted admonitions and blew raspberries at him as they struggled to regain their original places.

"What happened?" Sirius barked as James shoved Harry almost angrily onto the couch. His godson huddled there, not even trying to protest the way he was being treated, which gave Sirius a very funny feeling. Whatever Harry had done, or not done, Prongs was on a rampage about it, and from the looks of things sweet Lily wasn't in any mood to intervene. The way Harry cringed spoke of a long association of being manhandled and targeted with misdirected anger, which was yet another mark on the Dursley's already black record.

"Diagon Alley was attacked!" James burst out, and Remus frowned while Sirius made a startled noise.

"What! Who? Was anyone hurt?"

"Some minor injuries, nothing fatal," Lily spoke up from where she was pacing, obviously as frustrated as her husband.

"Are you all right, Cub?" Sirius asked gently, and his godson nodded without looking up, obviously unwilling to elaborate. Their Cub never wanted to own up to feeling unwell or having been injured, something that made Sirius determined to keep a close eye on him when it came to post prank care.

"Not that he did what he was told," James snarled and started relating the attack. When he came to the collapsing chimney Remus hurried to check Harry over despite Lily's assertion that she'd already checked her son for bruising. The werewolf chose to remain on the couch with his arm around the silent teen while Sirius listened with astonishment to Harry's part in the defence of Diagon Alley.

"Why are you so angry?" he asked when Prongs finally wound down, "From what you say, Harry has done really well. He got Ginny to take the children to a safe place and he didn't expose himself to direct attacks. It's not like he called the Death Eaters to personal duels."

"Sirius, he and Weasley fought as well as any Auror! In fact until we saw who had been casting from their location, Lily and I thought it was a pair of off duty Aurors casting!" James said at the top of his voice. Sirius grinned proudly at Harry, who grinned back; just as pleased to hear this bit of praise, though James surely didn't mean it that way.

"Wipe that smile off your face!" Lily snapped, "Where on earth did you learn to cast like that? You and Weasley shouldn't have been able to manage half of what you did!"

"Experience," the answer was saucy, though the tone was not. Sirius could see that they were rapidly coming to the point where Harry's past could no longer be completely glossed over or concealed. From the look in his godsons eyes Harry realised that as well. Even Moony sighed and squeezed Harry in quiet but affectionate commiseration.

"Sit down, you two," Sirius decided to take charge a bit, "We've got a lot to talk about."

He glanced at his godson, and the very real fear he saw had him holding his arms out without second thought, gratified that Harry chose to abandon Remus on the comfortable couch and squash into his roomy armchair instead, rather like a child being protected from a scary monster. It was an indication of how rattled Harry was and Remus followed the teen over, plonking himself onto the arm of the already overcrowded chair. Between them, Harry was wrapped in warm arms and sheltered from the confusion and frustration blowing around the room. The part of Sirius that wasn't worried about his godson was proud that he was allowed to comfort the child that was so used to comforting himself.

"Its alright, Cub," Sirius said gently. Harry hadn't had much experience with worried parents, and what Sirius took to be perfectly normal anxiety, Harry was evidently reading as anger, "No one is in trouble here. We have to tell your parents about your past sometime, and now is as good a time as any, hmm?"

"You haven't done anything wrong, Cub," Remus added in a gentle voice and Harry shrugged, before squaring his shoulders and turning his head towards his parents. Sirius was not surprised to notice that the rattled teen didn't look anyone in the eye as he started with Hagrid delivering his letter for Hogwarts and ended with the duel at the Ministry just a few months ago.

He noted that his godson didn't say anything about the Dursley's, his life before Hogwarts, or his summers after Hogwarts. That was something that worried him, as he had more than half a notion that Harry had been in for a bit of abuse there. It was something that would have to be addressed later, though, as they all had more than enough to deal with between his duels with Voldemort at the age of eleven and the slaying of a basilisk when he was only twelve.

Through out the recital none of the adults dared to speak, let alone move lest Harry stop talking. When he was done, the teen hid his face on his godfathers' shoulder, and the tremors Sirius could feel running through Harry's body had him worried. Before anyone could break the silence that had fallen, Ron Weasley opened the door and Harry bolted for it, managing to not quite run into his friend who stepped aside and let him out, closing the door again as silently as he'd opened it.

0o0o0o0

James looked rather grim, and Lily was staring at the floor with fixed attention. Sirius was well aware that the Dursley's had yet to be addressed, but was willing to let that lie for now. Moony stooped from his perch to wrap him in a hug, and Sirius kissed the nearest bit of grey hair.

"Poor Cub," Remus sighed, "I never realised how alone he felt."

"We haven't exactly been in a position to help him," Sirius pointed out, "I've been on the run, you're banned from the school because of your curse… it just hasn't been possible for us to be there."

"Why hasn't the Headmaster done more to keep him safe?" Lily burst out, "Why didn't he help Harry more?"

"Lils, he has a thousand students to oversee," Remus sat up, "And our Cub has a talent for trouble. He inherited that from us, I'm afraid."

"Us?" James spat the word, "There is no us! Lily and I are his parents, not you two!"

Sirius felt as if cold water had been thrown over him and from Moony's flinch, the werewolf felt the same. The two surviving Marauders had gotten into the habit of thinking of Harry as theirs. Once Sirius had learned to look beyond the face of his old friend to the person beneath it, he had come to cherish Harry as much as he would his own child. The fact that Harry seemed to be 'parent proof' only allowing Molly Weasley to act for him in that role hadn't diminished the way Sirius and Remus felt. They'd tried at first to just be mentors, but to know Harry was to love him, and Harry's love for them was clearly visible, even if it had never been named.

"Now look here," Sirius frowned, "Don't take your anger out on us, Prongs! We've as much to do with Harry as you two do now…"

"And where were you when he needed you?" James yelled. The unfairness of that accusation hit Sirius like a slap to the face and his temper ignited even as Remus reached out a hand to contain him.

"Azkaban," Sirius yelled back, "I was locked up for twelve years for getting you killed! While our so called best friend slept in Harry's dorm and Moony wandered the fringes of society without a friend or a knut to his name, I was locked in a small cell in the coldest hell you can imagine for twelve years! And you were dead!"

There was a sudden silence and Sirius got up, tugging Moony up with him. Moony had quite a tight grip on his hand, and Sirius took a moment to rub their fingers together in sympathy. His lover hated arguments and bad atmospheres, part of the curse of the Wolf.

"If you want to point the blame at me, go ahead," Sirius said more quietly, "But my godson is as much my responsibility as yours. I won't just abandon him so your pride is appeased."

Sirius led the way out, ignoring the sudden step James made as if to stop them from leaving. They all needed time to calm down and think, and now was not the time to lose sight of the fact that Harry needed them all if he was to fulfil the prophecy that he had recounted in a low voice at the end of his tale.

Once outside, Remus led the way, and they found Harry in his room, huddled facedown on his bed with Ron sitting beside him, one hand clutching the redheads so tightly their skin was white from it. Remus made a pained sound and leaned down to hug Harry, with Sirius joining them a moment later. He included Ron in the hug, recognising that his godsons less than horrified reaction to the sudden knowledge that his godfather was gay probably had a lot to do with the unnamed attraction that Harry was harbouring for the Weasley that he was clutching so desperately.

"'M sorry," Harry slurred, and Sirius whapped him on the head gently.

"That's enough of that," Remus said softly, "Never apologise for being the best you can be. Your parents are incredibly lucky to have such a talented and smart son. Don't you forget it, Cub."

"Anyone who says otherwise will be answering to me first and Mum second," Ron added, and Harry snorted, stirring and eventually sitting up, having to squirm around to do so as Sirius was hindering more than helping, the light of mischief in his eyes. Moony joined the game, and when Harry protested with a wordless noise Ron joined in as well, the three of them picking on the green eyed teen, who retaliated. Things went downhill very quickly, and only calmed down when Moony fell off the bed with a yelp and Padfoot pounced after him in concern.

"Serves you right," their Cub announced, though he got up and helped his godfathers mate up off the floor.

"What in heavens name are you boys doing?" Molly's voice from the door was the perfect seal to the mood, and Sirius grinned in relief that Harry had once again recovered his good spirits, even while the mother of seven told them all off impartially.

0o0o0o0


	9. express route to chaos

**Chapter nine: express route to chaos**

It was something of a relief to be heading for school. It was definitely a relief to be out from under the eyes of his multitude of parents. In the wake of the attack on Diagon Alley, Professor Dumbledore had pressured the Ministry into issuing a blanket pardon for all the children who had been present and performed magic. Harry and Ron had even been commended for their actions, and the Daily Prophet was once again printing wildly inaccurate stories about him. At least this time they were favourable.

As if that wasn't enough, his mum and dad had taken to watching him like a hawk and it was rare he went anywhere without supervision. Evidently they felt they needed to keep a close eye on him in case he felt the need to go out and duel with a Death Eater or something. Remus and Sirius watched him when his parents weren't around, but they were trying to make sure that all the sudden parental authority wasn't squashing all his sense of prank and humour. That was tiring too, because not only was he learning a lot of spells his teachers wouldn't approve of, he was having to put up with two adults as old as his parents trying to get him to act as if he was eleven again - without the weight of the world, or the Philosophers Stone on his shoulders.

Molly was there whenever he seemed to lose, or was about to lose, his temper, which made his summer one long and arduous course of self-control. Arthur kept popping up at odd intervals with questions about Muggle artefacts and whatnot, and even Ginny seemed to have fallen under some strange spell as she kept popping up too and trying to engage him in strange conversations. He could talk magic with her, spells and defence and so on, but he had no idea what was the latest fashion craze among their peers and could care less either. He certainly didn't share her taste in music.

The only one that wasn't insane was Ron. He was his usual cheerful, irreverent self, someone to bum around and talk the usual sort of rubbish with. He continued to wake Harry from his nightmares, and Harry could not sleep without knowing that Ron was close by, to the point that they didn't even bother with the pretence of separate beds and crammed into Ron's together of a night. As Ron pointed out, it saved commuting, and Harry usually woke at Ron's first shake or call of his name. Ron called it teddy bear duty, but didn't seem to mind, and Harry enjoyed having someone to hold and hold him in return. Both had woken sporting morning erections, a fact that had been ignored so far. Harry had the sense that they were on the brink of something and could only hope that whatever it was would not change their friendship.

The Hogwarts Express was a comforting point of familiarity and Harry ended up sharing a carriage with a couple of Muggle born first years. They had no idea of his fame or deeds, and therefore the trip was surprisingly peaceful in that they didn't ask about his scar or past battles with Voldemort. They did pepper him with a thousand and one questions about Hogwarts and he answered what he could without giving away the best surprises - half the fun was discovering the schools secrets for yourself. He did reassure them about a few of the more alarming aspects of learning magic, and demonstrated a few first year spells for them on request. He got a very reproachful look for not warning them about Hagrid as they disembarked but he just grinned and winked, moving to a carriage and waiting for his friends to catch up. As sixth year prefects Ron and Hermione both had been on constant patrol duty, and Ginny had spent a lot of time with the other fifth year prefects learning the duties of her new position.

It wasn't until Hermione sat next to him at dinner and asked how his summer was that he realised she hadn't heard about his parents - and it wasn't until Ron's head snapped up with an implicit warning in his eyes that he realised he couldn't tell her. It was too great a risk to the Orders plans to speak about his mum and dad in public, and he couldn't discuss the time he spent with Remus and Sirius either.

"Um, Hermione, I had one of those summers I'm not allowed to talk about," Harry said very quietly, "Not even with you."

She looked offended and turned her shoulder to him at once, pinning her gaze on Ron, who was sitting opposite them and staring at the Sorting Hat with a fixed kind of attention. When she realised that Ron wasn't going to tell her anything either she sniffed in disapproval and managed to turn her shoulder to him as well. Ginny had contrived to sit next to Harry, and she leaned in to whisper in his ear.

"You can't not tell her, Harry," she scolded in an undertone, "She's your friend."

"Butt out, Ginny," Ron ordered from across the table, and Ginny looked at Harry for protection. When he fiddled with his goblet in an absentminded way she huffed as well and swapped seats with Colin Creevey. Harry was sure this was Ginny's idea of punishment as Colin immediately started bending his ear about the summer holidays and how he had a little sister starting this year and wasn't Harry glad to be back at school and so on until Harry wanted to smack him. It was an impulse that Harry would regret as the doors to the Great Hall blew open and instead of the first years that everyone was expecting, a group of Death Eaters poured in and started hexing people left right and centre. Harry wasn't quick enough to throw a shield up and Colin went down hard, even as the teachers leapt up to defend their students.

"Give us Potter!" a voice shouted over the hexing, "Give us Potter and we'll leave!"

Harry and Ron were already returning fire, and he grunted in satisfaction as the shield nearest him cracked, sending three Death Eaters to the floor, stunned and petrified. The other students in the hall were either adding their efforts to the protection of their housemates or were leaving as fast as they could through trapdoors that had suddenly appeared near the teachers' tables. Harry grabbed hold of Ginny and shoved her at Colin.

"Get him out," he ordered, ignoring the glare she gave him for his highhanded manner in favour of stepping forward to direct the next person to hand to do the same thing. This had the added bonus of getting him closer to the Death Eaters, which meant he could turn himself in if it looked like they were going to be overrun. Ron was matching him step for step, which Harry was worried about, and Hermione was suddenly near the redhead on the other side of the table, copying Harry's directions. He didn't have to look back to see that the teachers were rapidly advancing along the house tables, and that more than one person had caught onto the idea of dragging the injured under the house tables and up to the trapdoors. The space between the tables was becoming congested with low obstacles - people mainly - and Harry climbed up onto the table as he neared the end in order to have a little more space.

McGonagall arrived in a flurry of mashed potatoes and stinging hexes and Harry made room for her. It had been Snape's turn to bring the first years to the Great Hall and Harry was really hoping he hadn't had to choose between the Death Eaters and the defenceless children. The spy was valuable, but the children were more important to Harry's way of thinking.

Ron grunted as a slashing hex got through his shield and opened a long wound in his arm, and Harry leapt down to his side and flung an arm around him, holding him upright and shielding them both from the barrage that was sent their way. To his right a couple of seventh years went down hard and were pulled under the house tables by some third years who had evidently stationed themselves there for just that purpose. The Headmaster took their place, sending spell after spell at their attackers.

"Get out Ron," Harry panted, "Go!"

"Not without you," Ron stubbornly switched his wand to his left hand and resumed casting - a feat in itself as they'd never practiced casting left handed before and the wand movements would be subtly different. Harry switched his grip so that Ron was standing on his own, but Harry's left hand was clamped above his elbow in a grip so tight that it was slowing the blood flow to the lower limb and thus slowing the bleeding as well.

There was a bright flash and Fawkes appeared, hovering in front of them. As one, Harry Ron and McGonagall grabbed the Phoenix's tail feathers and were transported in a rush of heat and wind to behind the Death Eaters. They had not been expecting attack from the rear and in a matter of minutes they were stunned and petrified. Ron sagged into Harry's side in exhaustion while Harry kept his wand ready. The redhead took a moment to mutter the bandage charm over his slashed arm, which let Harry release his grip and once more wrap an arm around Ron's waist.

The teachers were swarming into the foyer now and Harry lowered his wand cautiously, backing them against the nearest wall for protection and panting for breath.

"Hospital wing Weasley," McGonagall looked over from where she was supervising the last Death Eater, "Take him up Potter, and then come straight back."

"The first years," Ron protested but Harry didn't give him a choice about it, almost lifting Ron off his feet and starting forward at a good pace.

"We'll get it sorted," Harry knew that Ron had a 'big brother complex' when it come to the youngest students in the school. Hermione had never understood that, and had objected more than once to the gruffly casual manner he took with the schools youngest students. That had surprised Harry - he'd have thought that she'd recognise Ron's manner from the way Bill and Charlie treated the younger Weasley's when they were home, "Trust me."

"With my life," Ron replied and let himself be led away, unaware of the silly grin on his best friends face.

0o0o0o0


	10. every good deed

**Chapter ten: every good deed…**

Harry followed McGonagall and Flitwick down to the landing where the boats with the first years traditionally arrived. They were floating calmly in the water, surrounded by blue shield spells that prevented the inexperienced children from getting out or raising the alarm. Snape was unconscious and face down on the landing, one hand dangling down into the water. It looked as if his 'colleagues' had stunned him to prevent casting suspicion on 'their' spy. Harry let Flitwick tend to the potions master, choosing instead to cast finite incantatem on the nearest boat, cancelling the shield spell and letting the first years out. He directed them to go no further than the staircase and shoved their boat out of the way to let the students McGonagall had just freed disembark as well. Snape groaned his way to consciousness behind them and Flitwick joined Harry and his teacher in freeing the unsorted students.

There was more than one child in tears and Harry found himself administering hugs and pats as needed to get them out of the boat. One girl was so terrified she had to be lifted out by Professor McGonagall, and eventually carried by her into the school proper. Dumbledore was standing over the captive Death Eaters in the foyer and directed them to the Room of Requirement, which had relocated itself opposite the school kitchens.

Inside the room were two long soft platforms, covered in pillows and blankets. There was a long table in the middle of the room with benches either side and part of the Sorting Feast laid out on it. There were two doors at the far end that Harry discovered led to bathrooms for boys and girls - baths and showers were laid out in a style similar to the Gryffindor bathrooms, and quite a few first years made immediate use of the loos.

"I'll leave you in charge, Harry," Professor McGonagall handed over the sobbing student, "I need to see to our House. Bring the students to the Great Hall at nine tomorrow morning, and we'll Sort them then. No one is to leave this room in the meantime."

"Yes Professor," Harry nodded, and she patted his shoulder gently before heading out. The door changed into a wall the moment she stepped through it, and Harry sat on the end of the bench, pouring a glass of pumpkin juice and tempting the crying girl out with it. The rest of the first years slowly sat around the table and dished up, looking around anxiously.

"You're safe in here," Harry spoke up so everyone could hear, "This is the room of requirement. No one can enter it unless we want them to, and right now no one can leave it either."

"Does this happen every year?" a red head spoke up, "Because none of my cousins mentioned this. Those Death Eaters came out of nowhere!"

"Who?" a blonde asked, "What's a Death Eater?"

Harry let the purebloods explain the current state of the Wizarding world to the muggleborns, only speaking up if someone got too carried away and strayed from the truth. In very short order, Death Eaters, Voldemort and the Boy Who Lived were discussed, though Harry didn't identify himself by that name, calling himself only Harry as Professor McGonagall had. By the time they'd finished unknowingly taking apart his history, the girl on his lap had calmed down enough to eat her own dinner and let him eat his. Pudding followed and Harry helped himself to ice cream as the talk turned to the Sorting ceremony.

"My cousins said you have to wrestle a troll," the redhead looked a little nervous and Harry laughed. Those words had identified the young man more thoroughly than the faint air of familiarity that his face suggested.

"Fred or George?" the apparent non-sequitor made sense only to the redhead, who grinned and shrugged.

"Ron actually," was the response, and Harry shook his head. The twins had told Ron that they were expected to wrestle a troll and it seemed that Ron was passing that misinformation on. Yet another Weasley family tradition in the making, and Harry counted himself privileged to see it in action.

"I'm Tim," the redhead introduced himself, "You know my cousins?"

"They're good friends of mine," Harry sat back as the depleted platters and empty bowls vanished, leaving the table completely bare, "Ok everyone, I suggest you have a bath or shower or whatever you normally do before bed and then get some sleep. Lights out in an hour."

"My pyjamas aren't here," someone realised and Harry waved a hand at the pillows.

"There's a set of pyjamas under each pillow. They'll be the right size. This is the room of requirement, it won't have forgotten," he got up and showed them, handing the pyjamas to the girl who had been so upset. Several of the other students rushed to look for their own, some coming up with very bright and ugly sleepwear. What with one thing and another the hour passed quickly and soon they were all bunked down, sleeping in friendship or family groups. Harry resigned himself to catnaps at the table, not wanting to risk having a nightmare tonight and scaring the students he'd finally calmed down.

0o0o0o0

By 9 am Harry was more than ready to enter the Great Hall. He was worrying about Ron. Even though Madam Pomfrey could mend cuts like that in a heartbeat, Harry knew the Hospital Wing would have been very busy last night and he was worried that Ron hadn't been treated until late. He hated that his friends were hurt, and knowing one of them was in pain or worse always made him more than a little tense. He was very happy to hand his charges over to his Head of House and slip into the Great Hall, making a bee line for the Gryffindor table and the empty seat beside Ron. His friend had chosen to sit in the seat that was second nearest to the door, which was unusual as they usually sat halfway down the table.

"Are you ok?" he asked in a low voice, ignoring the buzz of students around him. Ron nodded, his eyes clear and complexion normal. Harry looked at his friend's arms anyway and caught a glimpse of the bandage poking out of Ron's sleeve. He couldn't help the little noise of dismay that he made, and reached out to touch the edge of the bandage lightly.

"It's just a precaution," Ron waved it off, "Harry, there's trouble brewing. People are blaming you for the Death Eater attack. They think the Death Eaters would never have come here if you weren't here."

"What?" Harry felt like a lump had suddenly formed in his throat, "But…"

"We both know its bollocks, Harry," Ron reassured him, "I thought you should know."

Hermione was sitting further up the table, radiating disapproval, and Ginny was chewing on her hair. Before Harry could pursue this, and he had a nasty feeling that the girls were supporting this view, the doors opened and the First Years stepped in cautiously. A couple of them waved to him when they spotted him, and most of them smiled hello. He smiled back and watched them throng up the centre aisle and gather in front of the Sorting Hat. Ron asked where he'd been last night and Harry explained in a whisper all that had occurred after Ron had been left in the Hospital Wing. By the time he was finished the Hat had finished its song and he clapped politely with the rest of them before propping his head in his hand and watching the Sorting.

Breakfast appeared in short order and he and Ron tucked in, both starving after the excitement of last night. Presiding over such a large table of upset children was not conducive to an appetite for evening meals, and the worry he'd felt about Ron and his other friends was now alleviated. When the last plate had been cleared Dumbledore stood up and Harry and Ron leaned together, happily digesting while they waited for the usual start of term notices.

"You will be pleased to know," Dumbledore launched without preamble into his speech, "That our attackers of last night were all apprehended thanks to the efforts of your housemates and teachers. While we sustained a few injuries, no one was seriously hurt, and as you can see we are all here together this morning for the Welcome Feast. Unfortunately word has gotten out about the attack and all owl deliveries were diverted this morning as a rather large number of reporters were trying to send inappropriate letters. Your parents have also been informed by owl as of last night, and quite a few of them have come to check on you. Classes today have been cancelled, and you will be issued with your timetables after dinner this evening. Now, I believe your visitors are waiting."

The doors to the foyer swung open and a large crowd of parents burst in, hurrying to look at their children. Mr and Mrs Creevey were relieved to find all three of their Gryffindor's in good health, their daughter protectively bracketed by their sons. The family resemblance was unmistakable, and Harry chuckled, pointing them out to Ron. Ginny had spotted her mother the moment she stepped through the doors and had run into her arms, where she was now whispering urgently. Mrs Weasley didn't look too impressed with whatever was being said, but hugged her daughter one more time before heading towards her son.

"Hi mum," Ron got up and hugged his mother straight away, letting her fuss over his arm, and generally straighten his robes. Harry reflected wistfully that it would have been nice to have Sirius and Remus, or Lily and James come to check if he was ok, though he understood why they couldn't. The Great Hall was extremely noisy and he looked around at all the anxious faces, relief and worry mixing equally with the emotions he was seeing. There was also a worryingly sharp edge to the noise, and he felt that there was something wrong, but before he could try to pin that notion down Molly was turning from her son and daughter and reaching out for him.

"Harry dear," Molly tugged on his shoulder and he got up, falling gratefully into her hug. She squeezed him breathless and fussed over him for a moment before Ron rescued him, pulling Harry to sit down again and then staying close, an arm casually around his friend. Harry liked this a lot and leaned into the contact innocently. It was almost as good as sharing Ron's bed at night.

"Your father and I were so worried, and your brothers have all made me promise that I'll owl them the minute I get home," Molly had her arm around Ginny, who was leaning into her side comfortably, but not meeting anyone's eye. The tone that had worried Harry before was now more pronounced, and he sat up out of Ron's embrace a little, looking around to see if he could pinpoint it.

A lot of parents and students were directing nasty looks at him, and he looked down at the table again. It wasn't hard to imagine that a lot of people resented the attack that had been engineered to capture Harry, and when the shouting started minutes later he wasn't really surprised.

Ron and Mrs Weasley were too stunned to counter the calls for his exclusion from the school, though the teachers did their best to defend the Boy Who Lived. Ginny even made one or two low comments to her mother that earned her a very dirty look and Harry had to grab Ron's knee to prevent him from shouting at his sister. It was with an air of inevitability that he stood and offered to exclude himself when the Headmaster was threatened with the sack. He would remember the look on Mrs Weasley's face for the rest of his life when Ron stood up and included himself in that statement, though Harry wasn't happy to see his friend throw his schooling away. They'd only just got their OWL scores, and Ron would need good NEWT scores to become an Auror.

Ron refused to hear any of Harry's low voiced objections, and Harry resigned himself to the fact that Ron had made a very clear decision about where their future lay. That it was together made the uncertainty bearable, and they walked from the Great Hall for the last time with their heads held high.

0o0o0o0


	11. gets rewarded

**Chapter eleven: … gets rewarded**

Ron was ready when Harry's knees went as the realisation of what he'd just done hit him, and had his arm around his friends waist and was moving them briskly up the stairs before Harry made a spectacle of himself in the foyer. The shock lasted all the way up to the tower and into the dorm room, with Ron almost dropping Harry onto one of the empty beds. He watched as his friend drew his knees up under his chin and shook, panting for breath in the aftermath of their actions.

"Ron," Harry whispered and Ron joined him on the bed, sitting comfortably and watching his friend closely, "Ron what am I going to do?"

"Go to Grimmauld Place and have Professor Lupin tutor us I guess," Ron shrugged. Harry was always solid as a rock in the midst of a crisis. It was the aftermath he usually had trouble with. He'd had never had family to teach him how to cope with his feelings and he'd certainly never had a family that had supported him emotionally.

"Us?" Harry seemed to realise who was with him, because his eyes widened and he grabbed Ron by the shoulders, "Ron! You have to go back down there and tell them that you're staying!"

"What?" Ron spluttered. This was the last thing he'd been expecting and part of him felt a little betrayed. It had been no easy decision to stand up and throw his lot in with his best friend - his loyalties at war with practical reality. He'd never make Auror if he didn't get good grades, and students who were privately tutored often found the NEWTS harder than those that attended school.

"Ron this is your future! You can't leave school just because of me!" Harry's face was anguished and Ron understood what the green eyed teen hadn't said.

"Harry, everything I need for my future is right here," Ron replied gently. Obviously his friend would need this spelled out to him, "There is only one future for me and that is with you."

"Together?" Harry asked the question in such a small voice that it was impossible to resist gathering him in close, feeling the tremors and hitches in his best friend's breathing. Ron tightened his hold possessively. They had been getting closer to each other all summer, and truth be told Ron was looking forward to the next step. Young as he was, he could recognise forever when he saw it, and if he and Harry took that step then forever was what he'd have.

"I won't leave you. I want to be with you. Together," Ron promised and Harry moaned softly, his own arms wrapping around Ron and clinging tight. They sat that way until Molly Weasley cleared her throat in the doorway.

"Harry, Ron, we have to leave," there was evidence of tears in her voice and under her eyes, but she smiled when her son and adopted son - soon to be son in law? - let go reluctantly and moved to gather their things.

"We should prank the dorm and common room," Ron sighed as they headed for the door; knowing his mother would never allow it, "Think of it as a farewell gift."

"What have you got?" Mrs Weasley asked and both teens nearly tripped over themselves in surprise.

"Mum! You're not serious?" Ron spluttered and got a look from his mother that usually came from the twins. Ron realised that his very strict and authoritative mother would be able to rival the twins on a spree, the way she was twinkling at them.

"I am," she said firmly, and Ron looked over at Harry for a moment before grinning and diving into his trunk. By unspoken agreement they only put a small prank in Neville's bed, as he had spoken up for Harry very loudly. They pranked their own beds as well in case someone decided to move into them. They thoroughly mined the common room and had to wait for Mrs Weasley to return from the direction of the girls' dorm, with a very un-motherly expression on her face. She hugged them both tightly then led them down the stairs, their trunks much lighter. Grimmauld Place awaited them, and Ron hoped Harry didn't think about who was there until they were in the front door. He wondered how James and Lily would react.

0o0o0o0

Sirius looked up in surprise when the front door opened and dropped the books he was holding when Harry stepped over the threshold, burdened down with his school things, followed closely by Molly and Ron Weasley. His godson was pale and unhappy, and the noise of the books thundering to the floor had them all wincing as it echoed through the entry hall. Lily hurried from the study where she and Sirius had been sitting, looking for information that Dumbledore had requested in his attempts to understand how Lily and James had been sent forward in time, and she gasped at the sight of her miserable son. By the time Sirius and Ron had got the books picked up once more, James and Remus had appeared as well and everyone headed to the kitchen, an anxious silence hovering over them that no one felt like breaking. Molly shut the door and glanced at the newspaper, the front page proclaiming that Hogwarts had been attacked. The parents of the magical world had already known that, as Dumbledore had sent them warning and port keys to allow them to get to the school this morning in an organised fashion. She had gotten the letter to Harry's guardians - there was no point in upsetting the foursome here by rubbing it in that they were confined to the house.

"What's going on?" James demanded as Sirius and Remus separated Harry from Ron and sat him at the kitchen table, each with an arm around his shoulder. Sirius pulled Ron down on his other side and slung an arm around the redhead as well, suspecting that he was dealing with his future godson-in-law by the way Harry had been crowding close to his friend.

"You read about the attack," Molly decided that for once an adult was going to explain the more difficult aspects of being Harry Potter, "When the parents all arrived this morning most of the students had a similar tale to tell. Harry was the focus of the attack and most of the children seemed to have gotten it fixed into their heads that they were no longer safe at school if Harry was there. The Headmaster did his best to calm things, but when the parents started calling for Professor Dumbledore to step aside, Harry offered to exclude himself from the school."

"And Ron too," Harry said faintly, "Ron did too."

Sirius squeezed the redhead in silent thanks and felt his lover lean around Harry and himself to pat the redheads' shoulder. Harry was shaking a little, and refusing to meet anyone's eyes. Obviously he was expecting to be punished for what had happened, and unfortunately his father reinforced that belief.

"I don't believe it," James exploded, and Harry flinched, burrowing into Sirius side for protection. That simple reaction said more than words ever could about the way the Boy-Who-Lived had been raised, and silenced James like a slap to the face.

"M sorry," Harry mumbled, "I didn't want to. But they need Dumbledore at the school. I was hoping Moony would tutor me or something. I'll pay, I promise."

"Harry, no payment is necessary. I'll tutor you and Ron happily," Remus said gently, "Were you hurt Cub?"

"No," Harry sighed, the warm breath gusting over Sirius neck, "I didn't get much sleep. Professor McGonagall had me stay with the first years in the Room of Requirement."

"By yourself? I thought you weren't a prefect?" Lily frowned and James put a hand on her shoulder. Sirius glared at them. Hogwarts had a long history of relying on Harry to do things that he wasn't supposed to. He had all the responsibility of a prefect without the badge. In fact he had all the responsibilities of an adult without the rights and privileges of one at times, something that Sirius was planning to do something about as soon as he and Moony came up with a halfway decent plan.

"He's as good as one," Remus spoke up, "A badge doesn't mean you're not able to handle the responsibility."

Sirius felt Harry move, his hand grasping that of the werewolf in silent thanks. Molly was nodding and so was Ron, and once again Harry's parents by blood were on the outside looking in. James resented that, as did Lily, and there was nothing that Sirius or Remus could do to make them understand. Harry was complex, with many different hang-ups and responsibilities that had been forced upon him at an early age. He had worked hard to fulfil those responsibilities, regardless of how realistic they'd been, and Sirius had confided to his lover how guilty he felt that he hadn't been there to act as a barrier for his godson.

"Ron, take Harry upstairs," Molly broke the tense silence and Ron was up in a flash. With a bit of luck the redhead would get Harry to rest for a while, as it was obvious that he hadn't slept last night with his 'teddy bear' elsewhere. While the boys were upstairs, Molly, Remus and himself would be able to sort out the Potters once and for all. They hadn't mentioned that they thought Harry had been abused by the Dursley's but now was the time to do so, as well as explain the more complex expectations that the Wizarding world had of the Boy Who Lived.

0o0o0o0


	12. meet the boy who lived

**Chapter twelve: meet the Boy Who Lived**

Sirius had to kick Harry's door instead of knocking because his hands were full of the lunch tray he was carrying. James and Lily had decided that they wanted to speak to the Muggles and find out exactly what they had done to their son as they raised him, and Molly had insisted on going along. As the most level-headed of the group Remus had gone with them. Sirius hoped his lover would be able to contain the anxious and outraged mothers and frankly homicidal father, and had agreed that, as the person most likely to pass out whilst using magic, he would stay behind and fix lunch for his Cub and godson-in-law. Ron opened the door and let him in wordlessly. Harry was still asleep, the noise not even penetrating his heavy slumber, though he was a little restless in the bed.

"Time to get up Cub," Sirius called softly, "Harry… lunch time."

"Ron?" the brunette mumbled, green eyes slitting open reluctantly before their owner sat up and sighed. Glasses were dragged on and the brunette swung his legs over the side unhappily.

"I'm here," Ron said gently but didn't go back to him, forcing Harry to get up, a grumpy expression on his face that made Sirius want to hug his temper away. This was the face of Little Harry, the child he'd never been allowed to be, shining through despite his upbringing. He watched their Cub shuffle over to Ron's side and sling a casual arm around him, leaning in for a hug. The redhead obliged and dropped an awkward kiss on the nearest ear as well. Harry blushed but didn't move away. Sirius made a mental note that Remus would have to give their Cub the Talk soon and put the tray on Harry's unused bed.

"Enough mushy stuff," Sirius teased, "You'll make me jealous."

Harry immediately let go of Ron and flung his arms around Sirius instead, an impromptu hug that surprised but gratified the former prisoner. Remus was his main source of affection and touch and having Harry close during the holidays had been a boon that Sirius had appreciated greatly. He hugged his godson tenderly while Ron investigated the pile of sandwiches and they let go when the redhead asked what they wanted to drink. Sirius had brought up both tea and juice, and all three of them settled down to eat while Harry woke up properly and started paying attention to what was going on around him.

It was obvious that Harry didn't realise that the other adults had left the house, and Sirius wasn't sure if Ron knew his mother was out visiting the Muggles either, because both boys kept half an eye out for their mothers and cleaned up any crumbs they dropped carefully. Sirius suggested chess to Ron, and the two of them settled into their game quietly while Harry watched. Five minutes into the game the brunette was asleep again, cuddled into Ron's side.

Sirius conjured a blanket for his godson and smiled when Little Harry snuggled innocently into the soft material, sighing in appreciation. Ron rubbed the back of his mate and moved his bishop, sending the animagus a look that clearly challenged him to 'get out of that if you can'. It didn't take long for Sirius to determine that he couldn't. There were only seven moves left to him before he was beaten and Ron was smirking at him in a manner that was very unattractive in a godson-in-law.

"Marauder," Sirius murmured and Ron gulped, looking worried for a moment. Harry made a slightly fretful noise and clutched at the redhead and Ron immediately cuddled him close, shushing under his breath in a comforting fashion. It was clear to Sirius that the boys were closely attuned to each other, much as he and Remus were. Right now for instance, his lover was highly angry, and Sirius was doing his best to stay calm. It took a lot to upset the normally even-tempered werewolf, mainly because Remus practised his self control assiduously. He hated being an out-of-control beast during the full moon and made up for it - if that was the correct term - by staying cool and in control at all other times. Well, most other times. There was one or two ways to get around him, ways that his lover practiced most diligently. Sirius dragged himself back to the chessboard that was being reset and hoped that whatever his lover was learning wasn't too bad.

There was a brief respite between games when Harry wandered out to the loo and Ron took the tray down to the kitchen and brought back butter beers for them all. They resettled around the chessboard and there was some desultory conversation for a while before Sirius and Ron started yet another game.

Harry dozed off again, leaning against his godfather, which was a blessing when the others finally came back and someone started screeching away downstairs. Harry slept through the noise, thanks to a quick silencing charm, and Ron packed the game away immediately, sensing that something was wrong. Sirius gently nudged his godson awake, rubbing the sleepy teens back and murmuring quietly until he was sure that Harry was properly awake.

"Your mum and dad are home," Sirius warned, and Harry frowned running a hand through already wild hair and looking around uneasily.

"I didn't know they were out," he muttered and got up, "Where did they go? Was it about school?"

"No… they went to see Lily's sister," Sirius watched his godson closely and caught the start and uneasy expression that crossed Harry's face for a few seconds. The green-eyed teen shook the thoughts away and tidied himself up, obviously intending to stay awake for the rest of the short afternoon and into the evening.

There were footsteps outside and the door flew open, followed closely by a very irate Remus Lupin.

"Moony?" Sirius wasn't sure that it was safe to hug his lover when the werewolf had THAT expression on his face, and both Harry and Ron took a few cautious steps back in case that temper was directed at them. The werewolf within Remus was always excitable, which was one of the reasons he controlled himself so sharply, but that control was obviously missing now.

"Harry, your relatives are downstairs with your parents," Moony said, his voice quite sharp, "Your mums would like to see you right away."

"Ok Moony," Harry said tentatively and Sirius watched him square his shoulders before leaving the room, Ron hot on his heels. A spell from Moony's wand shut the door behind them and Sirius found himself with an armful of upset lover. He wrapped his arms tightly around Remus and listened closely as the werewolf started to tell him what they had discovered.

0o0o0o0

Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon looked very pale and worried when Harry entered the kitchen. He had been expecting his Uncle at the very least to be spluttering and protesting, but there was no sign of his usual arrogance at all. He wondered why that was and glanced over at James Potter. The barely contained murderous rage he saw there was answer enough and Harry sighed. While there had been some beatings, starvation and verbal abuse, he knew that there were children a lot worse off than he was. He'd heard about the things that could happen at school and was always careful not to provoke his relatives in that direction.

"Hello Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon," Harry said quietly, aware that they would both be terrified to know they were surrounded by magic and completely helpless in the face of something that they'd always forbidden in him.

"Boy," Vernon spat the word grudgingly, as if he was doing Harry a favour by acknowledging him. James growled low in his throat and Vernon went even paler. If there had been a white wall behind him, the Muggle would have blended in perfectly.

"Why are they here?" Harry turned to look at his father. Best to get this over with now, hopefully without having the Muggles blasted to bits by irate Magic folk.

"We thought it best that we all discuss this together," Lily said gently, a pained look in her eyes. Harry stared at her in astonishment, catching Molly's uneasy movement in the corner of his eye. She hadn't agreed with this course of action then, and he was fairly sure the werewolf currently being comforted by his godfather wouldn't have wanted this either. This cosy little confrontation was down to the Potters, and that realisation let Harry's temper slip its leash at long last. He was tired of trying to live up to conflicting standards, and part of him was determined to settle the Potter's jurisdiction over his life and his actions once and for all. He slammed a hand down onto the table - Aunt Petunia squeaked in fear - and glared with all the authority of a young, powerful icon of the Light, feared and respected by the society around him. The Boy Who Lived was very much in evidence right now, and his parents were about to meet him for the first time.

"What on earth for? Why in Merlin's name would you do something so fundamentally stupid? You've risked the security of Headquarters for what… an apology?" the Boy Who Lived shook his head in disbelief, "Do you really think that will change things? My childhood may not have been the one my parents wanted for me, but it is over with now. These people raised me, and I am who I am due to them in part."

"Harry, it was best to get it all out in the open," James said nervously and Harry's venomous glare would have made even Snape consider his next actions carefully. Even the Head of Slytherin would have been unable to match the sheer impact of that single look.

"Why? What good will it do to rake up the past? It was exhausting and terrifying and unpleasant to live the first time around, what possible gain would there be in reliving it now, except maybe the added humiliation of telling people what had happened?" the Boy Who Lived's voice was cold and clear, "The Dursley's are terrified of magic, and any apology they make today would be based on that terror. In their own minds they do not think they have done anything wrong, and no amount of coercion will change that opinion, no matter what they may say to placate you."

Lily and James gaped at the unrecognisable, cold-eyed man opposite them, thoroughly intimidated by the glittering green eyes and stern frown.

"I am disappointed that you would take such a foolish risk for no gain, and I trust that you will cease prying into my affairs," the cold clear voice cut at them like a thousand knives, "My Aunt and Uncle are not to be disturbed by the magical world any further. Do you understand me?"

"Yes," James rasped, anger starting to burn in his eyes, this time directed at his son, "I understand you, Harry."

"Mum," Harry turned to Molly, "Can you portkey them back to Privet Drive? Maybe a memory charm to make the situation more palatable?"

"Of course dear," Molly nodded, and walked around the table to tug the terrified Muggles from their chairs. The Dursley's had never met the Boy Who Lived, and the aura of power and command that had radiated from their irate nephew was unnerving to say the least - mainly because they now realised that if Harry had a mind to he could come back to Privet Drive and make their lives a living hell. Neither Petunia or Vernon dared so much as look at their nephew, let alone say anything to him, and Harry watched them go quietly.

"Excuse me," Harry nodded to the Potters and left the room once the front door closed, heading up the stairs and climbing until he was once again in the oddly circular room. No one disturbed him for quite some time.

0o0o0o0


	13. unlucky for some

**Chapter thirteen: unlucky for some**

Remus and Sirius were sitting on Harry's bed when Ron returned to their room. He knew exactly where his Harry was going when he headed upstairs and thought it best to let him calm down thoroughly. One thing was sure, Harry had been taking - or perhaps absorbing through exposure would be more accurate - glaring lessons from Snape.

"What happened? I heard people leaving?" Remus asked anxiously. He was holding Sirius' hand tightly, and Ron thought that there were faint tear tracks on the werewolf's face. He wondered what they had found out at the Dursley's, and if he would be told.

"Mr and Mrs Potter have met the Boy Who Lived," Ron grimaced and the Marauders sighed, "It wasn't pleasant. Mum's taking the Dursley's home and will probably memory charm them to keep Headquarters safe."

Both men nodded, understanding exactly what that meant. They'd met the Boy Who Lived in the Shrieking Shack, when he had come to the defence of the traitor Wormtail. Even though he was still young, that side of Harry was an elemental force that could not be resisted. As the years had progressed that part of their Cub had gotten stronger and more complex as Harry's experiences and magical ability became more varied. It was odd to think that the quiet, retiring teen housed such diverse personalities; Harry hated attention, the Boy Who Lived commanded it.

"Where is Harry now?" Sirius asked anxiously and Ron pointed at the ceiling wordlessly. He and Harry had yet to finish figuring that room out, and he didn't know what to call it. Upon reflection, today had been an impossibly busy day - he'd expelled himself voluntarily from school, taken on a Marauder in chess, watched his lover tell off his unexpectedly alive parents, and been thoroughly worried about hints that had been dropped about his lover's childhood. They hadn't even had dinner yet.

"In that refuge you two found," Sirius sighed, recalling Ron from his musings, "Well, as long as he can't come to any harm up there I suppose we should leave him be."

"I'll take some dinner up for us both tonight," Ron smiled, "Some blankets maybe. We'll see. Maybe some cleaning materials - its incredibly dusty up there."

"Ron, seeing as you're no longer a student at Hogwarts, but have received your OWLs, it would be allowable for you both to do magic in this house," Remus spoke up, "Provided you use the ability judiciously I don't see why you can't use a few cleaning spells. If it will make the area cleaner without Harry having to do it by hand…"

"I don't think I'll ever complain about a spot of teenager untidiness again," Sirius agreed in a low voice, "Don't make him clean up."

"I won't," Ron promised, startled to see the two men nearly in tears over the thought of Harry doing some dusting. His curiosity was well and truly piqued, but he knew he couldn't just come out and ask. Whatever the Dursley's had told the adults had been behind Harry's back. He would ask Harry to his face, it was the least he could do after the scene downstairs. He watched the two men opposite lean into each other, heads resting close, breathing slow and gentle.

Harry's godfather and adopted uncle left not long after, and Ron blushed a little when he saw they were heading for Sirius bedroom. Although he and Harry had been doing a lot of cuddling and had kissed each other - more as a joke than anything else, they were both still too self conscious to try kissing properly - they had not progressed to the deep level of physical affection that Sirius and Remus shared.

Ron wanted that, he was a teenager after all and had more hormones than blood at times, but was unsure how he would go about getting there with Harry. The way they cuddled felt so easy and natural, and Ron wanted sex to feel that way too. He knew what felt good - he was no stranger to his right hand after all - but he didn't know what Harry liked.

The redhead sighed and looked down at his uncooperative groin. It was hard to think seriously about this sort of thing when it was hard… Ron blushed, cast a privacy spell over the door and got himself comfortable. He'd deal with the problem at hand and then think about Harry. Or maybe he could do both at once…

0o0o0o0

Ron had appeared with a tray of covered plates and Harry watched his friend wave his wand and clean all the dust from the room with astonishment. Ron had explained Remus' theory and confided that he'd already done a bit of magic to trial the idea out. From the blush his redhead wore Harry guessed it was a privacy spell of some sort. He was no stranger to needing the discretion of that kind of spell and kind of wished he'd been in the mood for it himself. He'd had time to calm down though, and Mrs Weasley's cooking was very welcome to his empty stomach. Harry conjured a pile of pillows and cushions for them to sit on and they'd eaten the meal ravenously - as only teenage boys could.

The object in the middle of the room revealed itself to be a huge telescope, which explained why the room housing it was a glass dome. They looked it over carefully when the food was gone, and Harry cast a few polishing spells to clear the smudges from the lens and barrel of the telescope. There was a padded chair and slanted table to hold star charts, designed to revolve with the large telescope and the teens spent some time using the instrument, locating familiar stars and even going so far as to cast a horoscope for each other in true Trelawney tradition.

Eventually they settled back onto the pillows and Harry asked Ron what was being said downstairs.

"Very little actually," Ron shrugged, "Mum and Sirius and Remus are sitting on one side of the table glaring into their teacups while your mum and dad sit on the other and glare into theirs. I didn't ask what the Dursley's told them - if you want to tell me you can but I don't mind if you don't - but I'm pretty sure that whatever it was won't get around."

"Good," Harry nodded, "That's the last thing I need right now."

He had no intention of going into the details of his childhood with Ron, and was disappointed that his current guardians and assorted parents knew at all. He'd come to the decision that he would just ignore the fact that they now had concrete proof of what the Dursley's had been up to and carry on as usual. That Ron was suppressing his curiosity was something that Harry really appreciated, and wanted to reward.

"Ron… I don't want to go into detail," he let the redhead pull him into a cuddle and settled close happily, "Can we leave it at this? The Dursley's weren't nice to me, but I don't see the point in…"

"Dwelling," Ron finished, "I guess I can understand. Doesn't mean I'm not curious though."

"When aren't you?" Harry chuckled gratefully and Ron tightened his grip on the brunette.

"You could distract me," from the slightly strangled delivery of that very suggestive line Harry knew the redhead was blushing furiously and a glance in the starlight confirmed that. Harry's heart beat a lot faster and he leaned in carefully, aiming for Ron's lips.

They soon discovered that they were both very curious when performing this kind of activity and hands were soon tracing contours and seeking to give pleasure and comfort. Although Ron had only this morning hinted that their relationship could go this way, in the back of their minds both teens knew that they'd been heading this way for quite some time. A fierce sort of joy took over Harry's mind and he gave himself up to the touch of his lover, eager to rest in the protection Ron was wordlessly offering.

0o0o0o0


	14. tutors, parents and snape

**Chapter fourteen: tutors, parents, and Snape**

Remus started teaching the teens the next day. Permission from the Ministry or not, neither he nor Molly saw any reason to let them fall behind their peers. The lessons were welcomed heartily by the teens and they applied themselves with due diligence, competing against each other to push their learning forward. The friendly rivalry in lessons served a double purpose - not only did they progress more quickly than they would in a large class, it allowed them to be distracted from an unpleasant issue they had yet to deal with.

Harry and Ron had yet to discuss Hermione and Ginny's betrayal. It was an unspoken topic that hovered over them all the time, but neither teen was willing to be the one that brought it up. Harry was terribly confused as to why Hermione would turn on him in such a manner, and Ron had the double blow of his sister siding with the rest of the school instead of her family. Molly had been furious with her daughter, and both boys knew she was corresponding with Ginny, but if there had been any change in Ginny's attitude to Harry it hadn't been communicated to him.

Mr and Mrs Potter avoided Harry as often as they could. The green-eyed teen tried not to mind. It hurt that he was a disappointment to the people who'd created him, but at the same time he knew that the people who loved him now were proud of him and wanted him to keep doing his best. Harry had built a family that had little to do with blood and a lot to do with love, and until the Potters could open their eyes and see that there was very little at all he could do to make them feel better. Besides, as much as he wished it otherwise, he simply wasn't an average teen with average problems. As much as he hated it, he was a special case, and his parents had to set aside their idea of 'normal' and accept him as he was.

Lessons with Remus were fascinating. Sirius turned out to be very skilled at Charms, so he took over that lesson every now and then, teaching the theory thoroughly as the act of performing magic was still too taxing for his depleted strength, and Molly often took them for Transfiguration. Outside a formal classroom however, it was Remus that caught the teen's attention the most. He knew the most interesting facts and applications of the material he was teaching them, and often had suggestions for how to improve or alter the magic to fit the various situations they might encounter. Because he was not constrained by a formal syllabus - as long as they covered the major spells of each area they were allowed to learn whatever they wanted prior to taking their NEWTS as independent students - Remus could teach them things that were more practical and grounded than what was learnt in the formal settings of the classroom.

Sirius took both teens for Potions, as Remus instantly admitted that his were abysmal, though both men agreed that Prongs had been the best brewer of their group. However, the Potters were ignoring Harry as best they could, and Harry was determined not to ask them for favours. They didn't have Sirius teach them for long, as two weeks after their expulsion Snape himself Flooed to Grimmauld Place, demanded the teens accompany him to the cellar they had been using as a school room, and launched straight into a lesson without so much as a by-your-leave. While it was certainly disconcerting to have the man standing over them instead of over an entire class, Harry and Ron both knew better than to antagonise him by mucking about or doing less than their absolute best. Both produced a potion that Snape grudgingly allowed was 'tolerable' and that Sirius later tested and pronounced 'highly acceptable', and both were able to answer the questions he fired at them while they brewed, though Harry was nearly stumped on one. Snape set homework with his usual sneer, demanded it be done by the time he returned next week and Flooed off again without speaking to anyone else.

He was certainly the first teacher to drop by, but he wasn't the last. McGonagall stopped by in the evening several times to check on their work and Flitwick spent an entire Sunday afternoon with them to ensure they were 'up to snuff' with their charm work. Hagrid was unable to drop by - which was perhaps fortunate, as they didn't have room for any more dangerous and misunderstood magical beasts. Buckbeak was enough to deal with at the moment; he still inhabited Mrs Black's room, and both teens took to playing catching games with his food to give him something to do when it was their turn to feed him. Harry also took over his grooming, lavishing care on the cantankerous beast, to the point that Buckbeak only glared at him a little now instead of snapping his beak at him.

Professor Sprout also dropped by, which immediately reminded Sirius that the house had a conservatory attached to it. It was in terrible condition - all the plants had run wild, and there were some very strange hybrids in one corner that looked like they'd cross fertilized with each other by accident. Sprout was delighted and immediately set the teens to 'sorting this lot out then, and keep an accurate journal boys, so we'll know exactly what you found'. She warned them about the more dangerous plants there, went into positive raptures when she found five singing rose varieties that were in desperate need of pruning and took away so many cuttings that Ron speculated she'd need another greenhouse built at Hogwarts to culture them all in.

Whenever the Professors came by whatever lesson was being taught was always halted so they could have the teens for their speciality. This made sense to Harry, because after all the teachers were giving up their spare time to teach two excluded students. Most of the Professors were at least polite, some even a little apologetic that they had to interrupt the normal lessons to teach their own. Snape was emphatically not one of those. He would sweep into the kitchen from the Floo and demand they drop whatever they were doing to brew with him 'this instant'. Knowing the mans temper, neither Sirius or Remus objected to this - at least not in strong terms, it wouldn't do to let the taciturn man bully them outright without some display of defiance - but the third time Snape arrived the household was enduring lunch. James and Lily both glared at the Potions Master as he demanded Harry and Ron leave their meal to brew, and used that as an excuse to follow them down to the cellar and observe the lesson.

Mealtimes in the house were a bit of a strain because the Potters so obviously weren't speaking to anyone. Harry was fretting over this to some degree and no amount of reassurance from his lover or godfather and uncle could make him feel better. He didn't want his parents to dislike him; a part of him very much wanted their approval. Unfortunately a lack of any loving, positive memory of them meant building a relationship was fraught with difficulty to say the least. He didn't want to be babied, and they didn't seem to be able to understand that he had replaced them not out of ingratitude but necessity. Their return to his side did not negate the family he'd built in his heart, and nor should it. Harry would be happy to include them if they would only bend enough to see that in Harry's life there was room for companions and peers, but not formal parents.

Snape was his usual self, though Harry found the new potions lessons strangely stimulating. It was a challenge to formulate the potion correctly in such a structured environment, and Snape was forced to concentrate entirely on his two students, which oddly meant that he explained better. Ron and Harry were on their best behaviour, though this did not stem the tide of criticism, sarcasm and at times invective from their teacher.

"That's enough!" James snapped after a particularly gruesome description of their House's ineptitude. Despite the fact that they were no longer at Hogwarts, Snape continued to call them Gryffindor's and deride the House as he would in class. Fortunately he couldn't take points from them. Unfortunately James' interruption was likely to be taken out on his son and Harry winced, shooting a despairing look at Ron.

"I beg your pardon," Snape said with mocking civility, "I don't believe I asked your opinion _Potter_."

The tone he used on James' last name made all the other insulting tones he'd used on Harry sound like compliments. Ron and Harry both had to conceal reactions of surprise. Even Sirius and Remus hadn't been answered in such scathing and derisive tones, and they called the Professor Snivellus at times, to his face no less.

"I'll thank you to watch what you say to my son," James' voice showed that he was just itching for a good fight, "I don't believe he's made any mistakes that deserve to be addressed in that manner."

"Leave me out of it," Harry snapped at his father, "If you want to pick a fight with Professor Snape, then do it in your own time. He's trying to teach me a lesson right now."

Harry's own voice could have etched glass, and anyone familiar with him could see the Boy Who Lived lurking just below the surface, spoiling for a fight of his own. The Boy Who Lived didn't mind a bit of strife, in fact sometimes he seemed to thrive on it.

Snape got a very odd look on his face, staring at Harry, who ignored him to finish pulping his slugs.

"Harry, surely you don't expect us to standby and let you be insulted," Lily said quietly, "We are your parents, its our job to protect you."

"And when I was little you did," Harry put the pestle down and checked that he had enough newts eyes before tipping the pulped slugs into the cauldron and stirring methodically, "I don't need protection from Professor Snape. We're very lucky to have a talented Potions Master teaching us, and I know the difference between stinging criticism and character assassination."

"Finally!" Snape muttered under his breath and Ron had to swallow a smirk. Snape had an ego that liked to be stroked, and having Harry of all people finally admit that the man was top of his field and deserving of respect was a mighty big stroke indeed. Especially as it was James Potter himself that was being told by his only son how good Snape was. Harry's words were only partially politically motivated - they couldn't afford to lose the tutoring Snape was offering to them if they wanted to get through their NEWT exams in two years time - and at the same time it was an oblique apology for the years of animosity that the teen had directed at his teacher, deserved or not.

"Harry James Potter!" James spluttered, "How dare you! Apologise to your mother this instant!"

"I don't believe the boy has said anything that requires an apology," Snape interrupted smoothly, "Now get out Potter. You are in my way."

The wand in his hand was no accident, and also not required for this potion, as there were no charms to cast during brewing. James and Lily huffed and stormed upstairs. As the door slammed shut Harry swallowed a sigh. He'd never be forgiven now. He'd driven the final wedge between himself and his parents and all over Severus Snape of all people. Sometimes he got the feeling that Life was pointing at him, doubled over in laughter.

"Blind Gryffindor fools," Snape muttered and then returned his attention to the lesson. It was an endorsement of sorts, and all the more surprising considering the source.

0o0o0o0


	15. time out for good behaviour

**Chapter fifteen: time out for good behaviour**

By the time half term came around, Harry knew that Ginny and Hermione had yet to renounce their endorsement of Harry's exclusion. Mrs Weasley was looking more and more upset about the matter, though Harry could hardly talk to her about it. After all, he couldn't offer her advice on her daughter's motives, nor was he an expert on girls in general. He'd offered to write a letter to the girls, but had been advised against it by Ron of all people, who thought it best not to tempt fate by stirring things up; part of Harry knew his lover was right.

The Potters had withdrawn from the household completely. They ate at separate times, refused to join in the evening and weekend activities and left the room if anyone else entered. Sirius and Remus were furious about the matter, but did their best to keep that from Harry. He was already upset enough about the mess as it was. Molly Weasley also kept her own counsel, though she was prone to giving him warm hugs and gentle pats from time to time, her own brand of motherly support.

They were thoroughly distracted from the tensions of the Potter family by the arrival of Fred and George, who needed two 'subjects' for their pranking items and had decided to take advantage of the half term break. Harry pulled them aside and made sure they knew that if Sirius was so much as changed colour, let alone shape, species, size or sex, Harry would personally hex them blind and impotent and then sell them for potions ingredients. Sirius therefore spent the week watching his godson change colour, shape, species, size and sex, sometimes all at once. Harry didn't mind, in fact most of the time he thought it was pretty funny, though Ron completely panicked at one point and needed to be led into a quiet room by Moony and calmed down while Harry did his best to reattach his ears. They went on all right in the end and the boys were ready to resume their studies with keen minds at the end of the week.

The Headmaster himself foiled this plan. He arrived with Fawkes in a golden flash and joined them for lunch as if it was not unusual for him to come popping in unannounced. A keen twinkling glance around the table made the tension Harry had been feeling over his parents anger return in full force, though the Headmaster waited until their luncheon had finished to ask his question.

"Are James and Lily not joining us?" the old Wizards voice was pleasant and light, but there was an undertone that scraped Harry's strained nerves raw.

"They don't mix with us," he said softly, and something in his voice had Ron cringing in sympathetic pain. He couldn't spare a glance for his lover, his eyes locked on the Headmasters, reading the disappointment there. The thought that the Headmaster was also disappointed in him and his choices was too much.

"They're disappointed in me too," the words spilled out, raw agony underscoring them, "I grew up without them and I'm not good enough. My own parents hate me…and you knew they would… oh Merlin, you knew they'd hate me that's why you sent them in disguise…"

By the end he could barely choke the words out. There was movement and then strong wiry arms clad in ridiculously bright robes gathered him into a thin chest covered with a scratchy white beard.

"My dearest child," Dumbledore's voice held a wealth of sorrow and love, "Oh my dearest boy."

Harry was rocked and soothed; hot tears and bitter sobs gushing from him like a festering wound that had been lanced. He could barely breathe through the grief, and clutched the soft material in shaking fists. An aged cheek rested on his temple and Fawkes sung softly. For once the song failed to make a dent in his feelings, their grip on him so strong. He hadn't dared to say those words out loud before, not even to Ron, the one person he trusted above all others.

It took some time for Harry to regain control. The Headmaster was holding him close, rocking them gently and simply waiting the storm out. When Harry finally found the strength to stir, in control once more, he was offered a hot pink handkerchief with little silver brooms on it that zoomed about. He mopped his hot face and blew his nose, putting the hanky away with a mental note to wash it before returning it.

"Harry, your parents are fools," Dumbledore put a finger under his chin and raised his head to look in his shame filled eyes, "You are a wonderful gift to all of us who have the pleasure of calling you friend. Please do not think so meanly of yourself."

"Sir," Harry bit his lip, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Dumbledore's eyes weren't twinkling for once, and his face was completely serious. It was the lack of benign expression that helped convince Harry that his next words were honestly meant.

"I would be proud to claim you as one of my own."

0o0o0o0

The moment that the Headmaster had taken Harry in his arms the rest of the family had left them in privacy. Now Ron stood outside the kitchen door, his ear pressed to the wood while his mother fretted behind him. She wasn't going to protest his eavesdropping this time.

Harry's words had been a bombshell, and Molly Weasley had been completely devastated when she realised how the green-eyed teen had felt. Ron himself felt like bawling in sympathy, but was restraining himself sharply. Harry needed him to be strong now, not a basket case. Sirius and Remus were pacing the corridor anxiously, identical looks of rage on their faces. For once, Ron was glad that the Potters avoided the household, the last thing they needed right now was for Sirius to end up in a coma for hexing them.

The door was not very thick and they could all hear the sounds of grief that poured from their Harry. Ron couldn't imagine how his lover had hidden this from him, and felt like a fool that he hadn't noticed. Some lover he was…

"You couldn't have known, sweetheart," Molly put a hand on his shoulder, exercising the mothers privilege of mind reading, "No one suspected this, and I even spoke to him about them on several occasions."

"So did I," Sirius said in a low voice, "And he never hinted he felt this bad, not once."

"I'm never going to urge him to consider their point of view again," Moony swore in a low growl, "I can't believe I was so blind!"

"This isn't helping," Molly tried to calm the enraged werewolf, but Ron shushed her when the terrible sounds from the kitchen began to quieten. They all pressed anxiously against the door and heard Dumbledore's words to Harry, and his surprised gasp in response.

"Perhaps it would be best if I came back tomorrow," Dumbledore continued, not giving Harry time to respond, "I'll see you for breakfast dear boy. I do have something to discuss with…"

Ron was in the kitchen in an instant, plucking Harry from Dumbledore's arms and holding him close, anxious to see for himself that his lover would recover. He wasn't so thick that he couldn't see that Harry had some healing to do when it came to the issue of his parents and their love or lack of it for him.

"… several members of the household, but my discussion with yourself and Mr Weasley can wait until breakfast," Dumbledore continued and Harry nodded, his eyes a bit dazed. He was clinging to Ron with determination though and that was all that the redhead needed to lead them out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

Once in their room he set up the strongest privacy spells he knew, and watched as Harry came out of his fugue enough to add his own. They were going to clear the air together, and Ron was determined that any shouting they did be private.

0o0o0o0


	16. hogwarts revisited

**Chapter sixteen: Hogwarts revisited**

When Ron led his lover in to breakfast the next morning, they were told that the Potters were gone. Sirius growled something about them not being welcome in his house, and Molly's thin lips spoke volumes on the subject. Harry had clung to Ron all night, refusing to meet his eyes, fresh tears attacking the teen at unexpected intervals. He was red eyed and Ron was bleary as neither had slept, though Ron was sure they would tonight. The adults in the house would come up with something to help Harry feel better in the short term, and Harry himself would heal the pain he felt over time. All Ron could do was tell his friend how much he loved him and wanted him in his life.

Breakfast was barely over when Dumbledore arrived. He sat at the head of the table and although his eyes lingered on Harry he made no move towards the teen, sensing perhaps that Harry needed Ron more at the moment. It was an endorsement of Harry's ability to judge his needs for himself in a way, and Ron felt his lover straighten a little in pride, as if the knowledge had given him fresh energy. Harry was a complicated person, but Ron was happy to spend the rest of his life figuring him out.

"I came to ask the boys if they would be willing to participate in a ward cleansing ceremony for Hogwarts," Dumbledore minced no words this time, getting to the point of his visit as quickly as possible. Given the disaster that yesterday's visit had been, this was probably a wise course of action.

"What's wrong with the school wards?" tension ran through Harry in a wave, and Ron was no better off. They had left the school to protect it. Any cleansing ritual that required their presence meant that the action had been wasted.

"Nothing is wrong per se," Dumbledore folded his hands atop the table, "However I review them regularly to find weak spots or areas that are in need of repairs. Upon my last check I noted an additional ward woven roughly into the general matrix. If I have deciphered it correctly, it was cast by the Death Eaters - possibly a second force that did not participate in the actual attack itself - and its function was to influence the student body against you."

"A ward like that would take a lot of planning and power," Moony sounded amazed and Sirius nodded in reluctant agreement. Ron frowned, and glanced at Harry. If it was a ward responsible for the students turning on Harry why had some of them been spared? The teachers and Neville had been able to think normally and so had Ron, but then the girls had both had a minor disagreement with Harry just prior to the attack, and the magic would have to be very strong to influence someone who was harbouring positive feelings towards the target. Maybe their disagreement was why the girls had turned on his lover, and if the ward was only able to influence people who had neutral or negative feelings what did that say about Snape? Ron was drawn away from that complex issue by Harry's voice and he made a mental note to bring it up again later.

"Hermione and Ginny were against us being at the school because of a spell? One woven into the wards?" Harry summed up and Dumbledore nodded. The dark haired teen sighed and shrugged. Either way it didn't matter. If the students were being forced to believe him a dangerous person then it was best they be freed of the magic that was interfering with them. If they still truly believed him to be dangerous once the ward was repaired then he'd wish them well and stay away. Once the ward was down things wouldn't really change for him or Ron. They would be unlikely to be accepted back at Hogwarts even after all the tutoring they'd had. Voluntary or not, exclusion was exclusion and he didn't think that even the Headmaster had enough influence with the Governors and the Ministry to get them readmitted to school.

"What do we have to do to break the ward?" he asked, and Dumbledore beamed at him. They spent the next few hours discussing the spells that had to be cast and how long Harry and Ron had to learn them. Daily lessons would be abandoned in favour of learning their part in the ward breaking, and once the Headmaster left, Harry let Ron lead him down to the cellar where they could begin practicing together.

Molly Weasley looked a lot happier already, so Harry was more than willing to try this. She deserved to be happy, and having both Ginny and Percy at odds with the family had been putting a lot of strain on Harry's adoptive mother. He didn't like to see her or Ron so unhappy about Ginny, and for that reason alone he would put everything he had into breaking the Death Eaters sabotage.

0o0o0o0

Hogwarts was like a breath of fresh air. As much as Harry loved being with his lover and his family, he missed the school and its occupants. Seeing the teachers once a week or once a fortnight was not the same, even if he did have much more of their individual attention during the tutoring sessions. Hagrid was waiting in the Headmasters office for them, and he tumbled out of the Floo into the half giants arms. For once Harry laughed at his clumsiness and the soot, because Hagrid was laughing too and had him upright and soot free so quickly. He threw his arms around his friend and was almost lifted off his feet in the responding hug.

"I've missed you," he confessed into Hagrid's beard, "How are you?"

"I'm well, lad, don't you fret," Hagrid rumbled, "It's been pretty quiet around here of late though, make no mistake."

"Are you accusing Harry and I of being trouble makers?" Ron laughed and Hagrid put Harry down, a distinct twinkle in the dark eyes.

"Not a bit of it," the lie was there for all to see, but Harry simply laughed and looked around for Fawkes. The Headmaster was downstairs, getting the last of the ceremonial markings into place, as they had already discussed. Hagrid would escort them through the halls to the Foyer once Dobby came to say that they were ready for the ceremony to begin. The Headmaster didn't think that people would attack Harry in the halls in a panic if he were seen before the ceremony was complete, but no one wanted to take any chances. Hagrid would at least be able to help defend them, and most people would think twice before taking Hagrid on even if he didn't use a wand. It was almost a moot point as all the students had been sealed in their common rooms anyway - for all the good that did. After all the Golden Trio was rarely where they were supposed to be when something big was going on, their first year had proved that.

Fawkes welcomed Harry with a soft crow. He was beginning to enter his ragged stage, which heralded a Burning Day for the Phoenix. Harry spoke quietly to the bird, and scratched at an itch between his wings when requested to, aware that his lover was discussing him with Hagrid while he was distracted. Ron fussed over him every day, and part of Harry enjoyed the attention. He made sure to fuss over Ron as well, as much as the redhead would allow, and together they made being away from all their friends bearable.

There was a soft pop and someone immediately tried to squeeze Harry in half. He didn't need to glance downward to confirm the identity of his 'attacker' and grinned to himself.

"Hello Dobby," he patted the elf kindly, returning the hug as best he could. The arms around his waist tightened even further for a moment before Dobby let go and stepped back, holding Harry's hands instead.

"Harry Potter has come back to Hogwarts!" the elf squeaked happily, "And brought his Wheezy too!"

He let go of Harry's hands and threw his arms around him in another exuberant hug.

"Hi Dobby," Ron was smirking at him, but Harry didn't care much about that - the redhead had always found the manic elf's fixation on Harry amusing. He unwound Dobby from his middle and took a deep breath - elf arms were surprisingly strong - before smiling down at the little green being.

"Are they ready for us downstairs?" he asked and Dobby nodded, beaming happily. Hagrid ushered Ron to the door and Harry followed, trailed closely by Dobby who had apparently decided that he would accompany them back to the Headmaster.

The floor of the Great Hall looked very strange. Filled with runes that glowed a soft blue and bare of the usual house tables and enchanted ceiling, it somehow seemed smaller than normal. The Great Hall was the Hearth Point of Hogwarts, where the students gathered as a group to share meals and socialise. The Hearth Point of any dwelling was where the wards of that dwelling were anchored - which made sense because that was where the most positive energy was collected at any one time. Because Hogwarts was a school, the Hearth Point was centred in a place where all students were welcomed and had positive associations with. The Common Rooms and Library stood as minor Hearth Points throughout the school, bolstering the one in the Great Hall, but it was here that they would need to conduct their cleansing ritual.

The Headmaster and the Heads of House were waiting at their assigned places on the seven-point star, and Ron and Harry split up wordlessly to take their own. The air was crackling with magic and Harry could feel it washing over his skin in delicious waves. It was quite seductive in its way, and something they had been warned about. Both he and Ron had vowed to give in to that seduction only in each other's arms, which meant that neither boy was in danger of succumbing as long as they were apart. After the ritual was over, all bets were off, though they'd make an effort to control themselves until they were in private.

Dumbledore's voice rolled over the Hall in a wave. Harry called his mind to attention and added his voice on cue, releasing his magic as he and Ron had practiced in the cellar of Sirius' house. He felt the potent magic of his lover and his teachers join with his, and couldn't help the rush of affection that flowed over him in response. Even Snape, who professed to hate three quarters of the students he taught, was giving nothing but his best here, and Harry's resultant rush of emotion strengthened the ritual as only pure love could. Their voices rose as one, the magic carrying them along easily, bisecting the dark from the light and banishing it before joining the light at last, strengthening it incredibly.

Harry staggered as the ritual came to a smooth end and gathered his robes closely about himself. He and Ron would be ushered back to the nearest Floo point by Hagrid and return to Grimmauld place. They would have to wait to hear about their success later, after the teachers had a chance to sound the students out.

0o0o0o0


	17. visiting rights

**Chapter seventeen: visiting rights**

Remus was very pleased to hear that the ward cleansing had been successful. His Cub's - to exclude Ron from that designation was now unthinkable, though Sirius had used the term Pup in relation to the redhead a few times and it seemed likely to stick - had returned from the ritual exhausted and more than a little unnerved. They had locked themselves in their room with some very strong privacy wards, and come out a day later looking quite smug.

Molly was like a new witch, now that her daughter had been exonerated of turning her back on one of the family. Percy had always been a burden around her neck, but to have Ginny at odds with them as well had been frankly stressful. That her son and son-in-law had played a key role in returning Ginny to the fold had seen her spoiling both boys quite a bit, and watching Harry's shy responses to that spoiling had been a pleasure to say the least. Their Cub didn't get any spoiling while growing up, but better was late than never, and his time with three resident parents was allowing Harry to experience some of his lost childhood.

Today Ginny and Hermione would be coming for a brief visit at the girl's anxious request. They had been terribly upset, and as it was a Hogsmede weekend it had been decided to grant their request. Remus and Sirius were both a little concerned about the impending visit, as the last thing Harry needed was for the two girls to reject him again, this time on the basis of his relationship with Ron. Neither teen were in the habit of hiding their regard for each other, not that they skipped along hand in hand either. It was just that both boys had picked up some habits from the established couple in the house, and didn't seem to think twice about it.

Ron for instance was a hauler. Just as Sirius felt free to haul his lover closer, so did the redhead. Neither one of them seemed to care about comfort or company, though Ron didn't do it in 'class time', they just wanted their lover close and had become accustomed to reaching out and dragging them into proximity. Remus and Harry both had become used to both this and the arm that would anchor them at their lover's side. Neither was complaining.

Harry on the other hand, had become a snuggler. He and Remus both were quite happy to sit or stand close for a little while, and then the need to get closer would win out and they'd inch up on their lover, twining their arms around them if they could, or twining their fingers in robes or hands if they couldn't. This little habit went well with the hauling, because it meant that they would always end up in close proximity no matter who started it. Molly was used to this and didn't mind at all that they were affectionate among the family, though kissing in public was an unattractive prospect to both couples, and never done except as a joke. When the Professors came over the teens were more discrete in their touching, and Remus and Sirius toned it down as well.

"Hey Moony!" Ron bounced into the kitchen happily and Remus smiled. The Marauders old nicknames were in frequent use at the moment, something that was a comfortable reminder of happier times.

"Hey Pup," Moony replied and blinked. Yep, the new nickname had definitely stuck, "Ready for the big visit today?"

"Sure," Ron shrugged carelessly, "Harry will be glad to see the girls, and I suppose it will be nice. He misses Gryffindor."

"You don't?" Remus asked curiously, and Ron paused, obviously trying to think of a way to explain clearly.

"Kind of. I miss the House at times, and the stuff we used to get up to, but at the same time I really like being here with the family. It's hard to explain," he shrugged, giving up on the task and Remus smiled in sympathy. He thought he understood. Ron wasn't overshadowed here, in fact he was getting equal billing with Harry, whereas at home or school he was just one of the crowd. Harry on the other hand hated the spotlight and preferred to be just one of the crowd, which was why Gryffindor was sorely missed. That the green-eyed teen loved having his family around him was never in doubt, but at the same time wasn't quite sure how to react to the loving attention he was receiving. Knowing what they did about the Dursley's this was no great surprise.

Breakfast was the usual noisy affair, with people talking comfortably about a wide variety of topics. Molly would be heading back to the Burrow for a few weeks starting tomorrow and Arthur would be going with her. The couple had moved into Sirius' home to help supervise the boys, but were moving back to the Burrow because Bill and Charlie were coming home. As large as Grimmauld place was there simply wouldn't be enough rooms for everyone and still have space to spare for emergencies. The Order was still meeting here after all, and sometimes they had an unexpected overnight guest.

The teens tidied the kitchen up after breakfast and then hauled out their schoolbooks, intending to tackle the three-foot essay set by Sprout on her last visit. The plants in the conservatory were heading into hibernation, and this was the perfect time to complete their journal come catalogue and get things all ready for next spring. Sprout wanted the list before they started planning, and even Snape had mentioned in passing that he'd be interested to see what potions ingredients they had in stock.

The Floo flashed green and two girls whirled out of it just as Ron started arguing with Harry about preparing a third journal designed to track the potions plants and their properties. Harry thought it would be a useful resource to have, but Ron thought that Snape would see it as 'sucking up'. Ron was not about to suck up to the potions master in any way shape or form, and Harry was trying to argue him out of his opposition.

Hermione called their names the moment she stepped from the Floo and they abandoned the argument readily enough, though they left their school things out. She wrapped Harry in a strong hug, muttering a thousand and one apologies at the speed of light in his ear, and then turned and flung herself at Ron. Harry didn't have a chance to smirk at his lover because Ginny had thrown herself at him in a wild hug and was also mumbling apologies, her tone anxious.

"It's ok Ginny," Harry said awkwardly, patting her back in what he hoped was a soothing fashion, "I understand."

Ron was peeling Hermione off him and putting her into a seat and then rescued Harry from Ginny's determined embrace, plonking her in Harry's original chair and selecting one on the opposite side of the table and hauling Harry into the one next to him. His arm stayed on the back of Harry's chair in a silent show of support and Harry gave him a small smile.

"Really girls, it's ok. We understand about the wards and everything," Harry tried to reassure the teens opposite him. Hermione was pale and fidgeting, a sure sign she was upset, and Ginny had her eyes glued to his face, something that had always made him uncomfortable. Although he'd missed the school he had enjoyed the lack of anxious, adoring or arduous stares.

"Ginny, knock it off with the staring," Ron was blunt as ever, "Harry is not a painting."

"Ron, don't be so mean," Hermione immediately rose to the girls defence, "We're both a little worried about…"

"Being forgiven? I think Harry just said you were. He and I both participated in the ward cleansing ceremony that had you wanting him away from the school, so we understand that you were under the influence… so to speak," Ron grinned at his phrasing and Harry rolled his eyes.

"Only you could make a malevolent spell sound like a bout of underage drinking," he teased the redhead, who shrugged amicably. Ginny decided to get off the topic and looked over the notes that they had left out upon the girl's arrival.

"A herbology journal? I didn't know there was a garden here," she looked up, "I suppose you've been keeping up with your studies then."

"Good," Hermione smiled before they could reply, "You won't have as much to catch up with when you return to school."

"Er, Hermione, we're not returning to school," Harry spoke hesitantly, "We're planning to take our NEWTS as independently schooled candidates."

"But Ron! Mum and Dad can't afford…" Ginny stopped abruptly and flushed, and Ron flushed as well. He wasn't happy that Harry was paying the tutoring fees for both of them, but Harry had insisted way back at the start and made Molly and Arthur acquiesce. He wasn't going to let Ron be at a disadvantage because of him, and the fees actually worked out to be the same as the yearly school fees that Hogwarts had required.

"It's been handled," Harry's tone was final, "Ron's fees and mine as well."

"Oh, are your mum and dad paying?" Ginny smiled, unfortunately latching on to the idea that the Potters must have been one big happy family so far. She had obviously forgotten the tension in the house over the summer holidays and Harry didn't want to explain the new situation to her. Hermione was exclaiming in confusion and Ginny took a few moments to explain what had happened this summer, including a few words about how Harry couldn't just tell everyone that his parents were alive at this point.

"Oh Harry that's wonderful news! I'm so happy for you! Are they here, can we meet them?" Hermione gushed, and Harry shrugged miserably, unable to meet her eyes.

"They're not here, and you won't be meeting them," Ron said baldly, shifting his arm so it was wrapped around Harry and hauling him closer, "Harry and his parents don't speak to each other, and Sirius has said they're not welcome in his home."

Harry huddled closer as Ron explained in as few words as possible that the Potters had been unable to accept that Harry had created a family of his own and refused to renounce that family in favour of parental authority. When Hermione looked as if she was going to stick her two Knuts worth in he silenced her with a glare and a subtle gesture that told her they'd speak more in detail later.

"Ron, I think you can let go of Harry now," Ginny was looking at them strangely and Harry looked up, blushed and reluctantly peeled himself away. Ron patted his back and put his arm back along Harry's chair, giving Ginny the old 'I dare you to say something' glare as he did. He glanced at the clock and sighed. The girls would be here for another five hours at least, and so far things had not gone well.

0o0o0o0


	18. niffler out of the bag

**Chapter eighteen: niffler out of the bag**

Hermione distracted them by wanting a look at the conservatory and off they went, the boys warning the girls about the more dangerous sections of plants and talking about what they'd had to do so far to repair the damage of neglect. Hermione hovered close to Ron throughout their wander, and Ginny stayed next to Harry as if they'd had a permanent sticking charm laid on them. Harry was starting to get some very unwelcome vibes from the two girls, something that he'd hoped not to have to deal with for a while. He'd always known that Ginny had been interested in the Boy Who Lived, but he had hoped that as time went on she'd realise that he saw her more as a sister than a potential date.

Ron had been quite close to Hermione - the redhead was very protective of the Muggle born witch, and had always taken her side against the rest of the school, especially in the face of racism or sexism. He'd never really seen her as a girl until the Yule Ball, and that had gone so badly that Harry had once wondered if they'd ever make up. In hindsight they should have known from the start that they were suited more to be together, after all they had been so uninterested in spending time with their dates at the ball, choosing instead to sit with each other. It seemed that all the attention Ron had paid to Hermione might well have given her the wrong idea about their friendship, leading her in a direction that Ron had travelled with Harry.

Molly called them to lunch, and Sirius and Remus distracted the girls for a while, which made Harry both happy and sad at the same time. Happy that the spotlight was off him and Ron for a moment and sad that he felt so pressured by having his best friend and his little sister in the house for a day.

After lunch Remus instigated the Saturday post lunch nap argument; something that Sirius would only take if Harry took it with him. This argument was highly complex and well orchestrated, and would end with Harry firmly ushering Sirius off to the library.

"Harry's the nap fairy," Ron laughed as Harry put a commanding hand on his godfathers shoulder. Harry had a sneaking suspicion that this little ritual had been started in the light of Harry's upset with the Potters - it was Sirius' way of getting some quality time with his godson. They would talk quietly about Harry's week and schooling, and Sirius would coax Harry to talk about the Dursley's or his encounters with the Death Eaters.

"He's some kind of fairy," Sirius grumbled and Harry fisted his hand in his godfathers robe in shock. He used the handful to haul the man to his feet.

"Come on old man," Harry growled, hoping that Hermione wouldn't notice that particular phrase, "Nap time."

Sirius wrapped an arm around him as they headed through the door, which proved to Harry that he didn't mind the 'old man' nickname, though Remus and Ron were both laughing hard.

Harry ended up asleep at his godfathers feet, both of them dozing in a ray of sunlight through the grimy library window. They had talked about Christmas at the Dursley's this afternoon, and Harry had shed a few embarrassed tears, longing and old pain overcoming his teenage stoicism. Sirius had comforted him; his godfather was slowly helping him realise that the treatment he'd received had not been his fault, no matter what his Uncle had shouted at the time. He woke to a gentle kiss from Ron, the redheads hand in his hair, rubbing softly. They had all learnt that if you wanted Sirius to stay asleep - and despite his protests he still needed it - you had to wake the person napping with him gently.

He got up when Ron leaned away and walked into the hug the redhead offered, waking up properly and giving his lover a kiss. There was a gasp from the doorway and Ron stiffened in Harry's arms.

"They've opened the door," Ron moaned in horror, "I thought I closed it before waking you up."

Harry sighed into his lovers collar and then straightened up reluctantly. Four hurt and betrayed eyes peered at him around the door and he sighed softly, Ron turning and pulling him forward by the hand, ushering all of them out in to the hallway. Harry shuffled them forward out of the corridor where a shouting match could still wake his godfather, pushing them along to the conservatory and closing the doors for a measure of privacy.

"How could you!" the girls chorused in identically outraged tones.

"How could I what?" Ron and Harry replied, and then Ron snickered, his sense of the ridiculous touched by them all speaking in unison. Harry gave him a gentle nudge in an effort to stop this from escalating out of control.

"Look, Ginny…" Harry started, and then trailed off wondering exactly how he could explain what had happened and why he'd never seen her as more than a sister and friend.

"Ron, I thought that we…" Hermione trailed off in turn, and turned a very fierce glare on Harry, "Harry, you knew how I felt about Ron…"

"Harry," Ron said firmly, putting an arm around him, "Has nothing to do with my feelings for you Hermione. You have been like a sister to me, and I don't plan to date family."

"Oh yeah? Like you never thought of Harry as a brother?" Ginny spat the words angrily, but Harry was relieved that Ron didn't even waver in the face of the tears threatening in the young girls eyes. Harry hadn't wanted to hurt them, and he certainly hadn't wanted them to find out in quite this way, but despite the unpleasantness he knew this was necessary, and that it would be over one way or the other soon.

"Actually no," Ron replied, "Not even when Mum was claiming him as a Weasley. It didn't seem right to me - he has always been my best friend, and now he's also my lover, but he's never been a brother to me. He's more."

Harry snuggled even closer to Ron upon hearing that, and the action seemed to catch Ginny's eye. She stared hard at the both of them for a moment and then sighed. Harry could see her giving up, and hoped that meant she'd also accept them in time.

Hermione glared at Harry once more, but apparently decided that now was not the time to argue the matter. He hoped that she wouldn't be too upset with them, but there was no way he was going to pull away from Ron now - he was tired of losing parts of his family and this time he was going to be selfish and hold on to what he had with both hands.

0o0o0o0


	19. favours for a favourite

**Chapter nineteen: favours for a favourite**

"Adequate," Snape allowed the Stomach Draught to slide back into the cauldron with hardly a splash and turned obsidian eyes onto Harry, "Your brewing has improved Potter."

"Thank you Professor," this was the highest praise Harry had ever had from the head of Slytherin, and he tried not to show his complete shock. Snape glided over to Ron's cauldron and tested it as well. Ron stuttered when he was also graded adequate, and they were told to decant their potions for storage. Snape stood with his arms folded and brooded while they worked, moving quietly to avoid triggering his impressive temper.

"Potter," Snape spat his name as Harry finished cleaning his cauldron and Harry almost whirled around, wondering what he'd done wrong. Snape was glaring at him, but Harry couldn't see any poorly cleaned surfaces or shreds of ingredients lying around, "I have something to ask of you."

The words were reluctant and heavy, as if difficult to get out. Then again, if Snape were asking Harry to do something for him they would be. Severus Snape hated owing anyone anything, you didn't have to be a Ravenclaw to see that.

"I have spoken to the Headmaster Potter, and now I need to speak to you. This is a very serious matter," Snape droned and Harry nodded, put his cauldron away and perched on the bench that Snape gestured to. Ron joined him, a hint of defiance about his shoulders as he settled beside Harry. The fact that Snape didn't object set off warning bells for Harry. Whatever this was about was sure to be serious and possibly unpleasant.

"I was approached some weeks ago by Draco Malfoy. He wished to speak to me about certain… obligations that were about to close in upon him," Snape's posture was stiff and uneasy, but he did not waver in his determination.

"He's about to be Marked?" Ron guessed, and got a sharp glare and reluctant nod in reply. Harry shivered in disgust. While he didn't hold Snape's Mark against him - it was hard to in the face of the danger their spy faced every single day - the very thought of that grinning skull and snake on his teachers arm was enough to turn his stomach.

"Sir, can he be trusted?" Harry asked quietly. Snape gave him an even sharper glare but Harry stared him down. This was the safety of Ron, Remus and Sirius Snape was talking about, not to mention the safety of Headquarters. He wasn't going to risk them on a snotty little brat that was likely to stab them in the back as soon as look at them.

"You would not accept my word?" Snape's voice was a lot colder than it had been in a long time. In fact since the lesson where Harry had defended him to James Potter, Snape had been almost polite in his dealings with Harry and Ron, keeping the sarcasm to a minimum.

"I would sir, but I wouldn't trust Malfoy's," Harry replied evenly, refusing to back down. Snape's eyes flashed, and a trick of the light made Harry think that it was in approval.

"He was interrogated under Veritaserum, by the Headmaster himself," the Potions Master revealed in a dark voice, "He took considerable risk revealing his changing loyalties to me, especially in the light of my activities for his fathers master. He also passed my Legilimency examination of him. When it comes to Occulmency, Potter, Draco is as skilled as you."

Which meant he wasn't skilled at all. Harry nodded and looked over at Ron, their eyes locked as they held a silent discussion. He could see in Ron's brown eyes uncertainty, not that Malfoy was about to betray them all, but if Malfoy would be able to behave himself according to the house rules. The blonde Slytherin was something of a pain in the arse on the best of days, and with the added uncertainty of betraying his family cause his behaviour would probably not improve.

"It wouldn't be hard to include him in the lessons we already have, and there's a small room near ours that he could move into. It isn't as posh as what he's used to though," Ron volunteered, not breaking their gaze. The redhead was speaking aloud for Snape's benefit only and part of Harry wondered if the dark haired man was even aware of that.

"If Sirius agrees to shelter him, we can include him as much as he wishes to be included. He'll have to help with chores and things like we all do," Harry nodded and smiled at his lover. Snape shifted against the counter he was leaning against and nodded when Harry turned to look at him.

"Black and Lupin have agreed pending your agreement," their teacher droned, "Need I tell you the importance of treating Draco well; misuse at your hands could well drive him back to the ranks of the Dark Lord."

"We'll treat him as he treats us," Harry replied quietly, "That's fair, Professor. We won't deliberately make him a target of jokes or temper, and we'll invite him to whatever leisure activities we do. Beyond that its up to him."

"Very well," Snape swept from the room in a flurry of black robes and Harry fell into Ron's arms, looking for a cuddle. It looked like they had just exchanged one set of tensions for another.

"Guess who's coming to dinner," Harry muttered, a quote that Ron failed to grasp.

0o0o0o0

Draco Malfoy arrived at dinner, all pale skin, dramatic robes and a sneer firmly in place. Sirius could remember his father and wasn't too impressed by the pale copy the son presented. They'd agreed to treat him well though, and not to deliberately antagonise the boy, so he smiled politely when Harry made the round of introductions and then took Draco and his bags upstairs to his rooms.

Moony was headed for a full moon tonight, and was sipping at the Wolfsbane potion that Snape had brewed for him. Sirius was more than grateful for the potion, especially with their Cub and Pup in the house. He didn't think he'd be able to transform to Padfoot - and even if he did he wouldn't be strong enough to hold the wolf back. Sirius hauled his lover close and rested a head on his shoulder with a sigh.

"I'm sorry you'll be alone tonight," he muttered and Remus patted his hand kindly. They'd already had a round of discussions about this, and Moony knew that his lover was stronger he would no longer be enduring the night alone.

"Don't fret Padfoot," Moony sighed and Sirius shut up, not wanting to make things worse with his selfish wants. He sat up after a lingering moment, and Ron shot him a look of warm comfort across the table. He smiled at his Pup in thanks and looked up as Harry entered the room.

"Alright, Harry?" Moony asked, shuddering as he drained the last sip from the goblet. Ron pushed a glass of water across the table and the werewolf used a small mouthful to wash the taste away. Harry sat next to Ron, who hauled him closer automatically.

"No problems," Harry smiled, "He wanted me to send the house elf up to help him unpack, but I sorted that out."

Sirius snorted in amusement. He had no plans to get another house elf in, not after the way Kreacher had betrayed him. Senility or not, that house elf had been too fond of the Dark to serve adequately the needs of his newest Master. Additionally, Moony hated the things, something about their magic made him cranky and likely to snap at them if they went too near - from what his packmate had said of his year teaching at Hogwarts the tiny creatures had stayed well away from his chambers unless expressly invited in to clean. He couldn't infect them with his curse, so a bite wouldn't be a problem, but Moony had mentioned that house elves didn't taste very nice and Sirius wasn't willing to ask if that was a joke or a true comment. Part of him really didn't want to know.

"Is he coming back down?" Ron's voice broke into the animagus musing, and he looked up to see that Harry had snuggled into Ron's side, much as Remus would when Sirius hauled him over. Moony didn't like to be touched too much just before the Moon, as the lingering scents of his mate could upset the wolf, otherwise Sirius would have had his lover as close as possible for as long as possible.

"I don't think so. I offered to help with the clothes but he turned me down and asked what time breakfast was. I warned him to stay out of your Den, Moony, and he said he'd ward his door," Harry offered Moony a kind smile, and Moony sighed.

"Thanks Cub," he nodded, "It wouldn't do for me to eat Snivellus' protégé on the first night, would it."

"Think of the indigestion," Ron shuddered and they chuckled lightly. Moony glanced at the clock and got up slowly, offering a sad smile to them all. The werewolf was a pack creature and hated being shut away alone - Remus hated solitude too, though he would rather kill himself than risk biting a single person.

"I'll see you tomorrow," he said quietly and Sirius leapt up to walk his mate down into the small room off the cellar that Ron and Harry had christened the Den. The door couldn't be opened from the inside, and was barred from the outside as well.

"I love you, my Remus," Sirius promised as his mate walked into the bare stone room. There was a pile of old blankets in the corner where the wolf could curl up once transformed, but it wasn't a very welcoming room, and Sirius hated that his childhood friend had to be locked in there.

"I love you too," Remus smiled, and Sirius blew him a kiss, which he caught and pressed to his heart, an old joke between the two of them. It was the last thing he saw of his lover as he swung the door shut.

"I'll come and get you as soon as the Moon is gone," Sirius knew that Remus would be in no fit state to walk back upstairs without help, and was glad that he could at least help him now. Harry would usually accompany them, their Cub taking most of Remus weight as they took him up to bed where Sirius would hold the man close while he recovered.

"I'll be waiting," the words come through the stout door as Sirius locked it and slid the bar into place gently, not wanting to thud the thing about and make it seem as if he was barring his lover away. It was irrational, because that was exactly what he was doing, but love was irrational, and there was nothing he could do about that. His Pup gave him a hug at the top of the stairs, and his Cub took him up the stairs to bed, to rest for as long as he could until it was time to fetch Remus from his cell and hold him while he slept.

0o0o0o0


	20. traitor

**Chapter twenty: traitor**

Ron watched as Malfoy smoothly demonstrated their current transfiguration assignment. The Slytherin was second only to Hermione in their year when it came to transfiguration, and usually got the spell right the second time around. Ron was unconcerned by this talent, as both he and Harry had managed quite good marks in the subject, and felt no special need to compete with their newest class member.

"Well done, Draco," Remus smiled and turned to look at Ron, "How are you coping with the spell, Ron?"

"Not too badly," Ron grinned and pointed his wand at the rock they were transforming into a book. The rock quivered and slowly changed shape. The finished product still had an air of granite about it, and didn't have the fancy family crest that Draco had managed on his, but it was serviceable enough, and a few more casts would iron out the kinks. Malfoy snorted in derision, but Harry and Ron had made a vow to ignore that sort of thing, though Ron would roll his eyes at the noise.

"Do you need a tissue?" Remus asked the blonde quietly, and Malfoy flushed a little, shaking his head and mumbling under his breath. No one heard him, but it didn't matter, they were well used to his 'airs and graces' after spending a month in his presence. Upstairs the Floo roared, and Remus looked up expectantly. They were due for a lesson from Snape today, and Remus always made sure that he left the classroom ready for a potions lesson the moment the Head of Slytherin arrived.

Sure enough the door banged open, and Snape whirled down the steps in a flurry of dramatic black. Ron swept his transfigured rock off the table and Harry stowed his wand, turning to get out their potions books and cauldrons automatically.

"Hello Professor," Draco sounded glad to see the man, and Ron caught a small smile aimed at the blond from the corner of his eye.

"Draco," the tone was warm too, "Are you ready for the lesson?"

"Yes sir, though I can't speak for the others," Draco had the gall to reply, though he didn't have any equipment out at all, and Ron and Harry were both set up and waiting. Harry had fetched out Draco's things as well, and they were waiting in a neat pile at the corner of his desk. Snape merely raised an eyebrow at that, but said nothing else before launching into the lesson.

They were working on Peaceful Sleep Draughts today, though the two Slytherins spent some time talking quietly to each other. In a way the Potions lesson was a chance for Draco to get his 'parenting' fix, as Ron and Harry had their own 'parents' nearby all the time. The Wizarding world thought that Draco had been kidnapped from Hogsmede, which meant he was not able to communicate with friends from school. He was isolated in the house, because he always declined their invitations, and Harry was tired of trying to befriend the other teen. He'd been more than gracious about ignoring the constantly muttered insults and snide remarks, though it was difficult to put aside his feelings when he was not the target. Harry didn't care about verbal abuse as long as it was directed at him. They were coming up to Christmas, which would be a lonely time for the former Slytherin Prefect, no matter that they all planned to drag him into the house festivities. The Weasley's were coming, though Sirius seemed to think that phrase was more like forewarning of a siege or plague instead of a welcome visit, and had taken to fending Ron off with cloves of garlic at random intervals. Malfoy's sneer had covered his lack of understanding of that particular joke.

Snape gasped suddenly and stiffened, clutching his arm. Harry looked up and confirmed that his Professor was being Summoned to Voldemort's side. Ron was already preparing to put his potion in stasis, well aware that to continue brewing would be a foolish risk. Snape had insisted that they either put the potions in stasis or evanesc them the moment he was summoned, and Harry didn't think it worth arguing over. It certainly wasn't worth putting the Potion Master on his wrong side over.

Snape took three swift steps towards the stairs and then dropped like a stone, a strangled moan tearing through his throat. His right hand was clawing at his left arm, and Harry felt a dark wash of magic ooze over them all.

"This isn't right!" Malfoy sounded terrified, "My Father never reacted to a Summoning like this!"

Snape had managed to get his sleeve open, and Harry gasped as he bent over the Dark Mark. It was oozing blood and pulsating strongly, a smell of burnt flesh rising into the air as Snape convulsed weakly, his breathing hoarse and ragged. Another wave of magic pulsed from the Mark and Harry instinctively created a shield to block it out, not wanting to be contaminated further. Ron and Draco would need a Cleansing Rite, and so would the cellar. In fact the whole house would if the magic leaking from the Mark wasn't stopped.

"What the bloody hell is going on!" Sirius yelled from the top of the stairs as smoke suddenly poured in a thin stream from the Mark and twisted itself into a single word.

'_Traitor.'_

"Voldemort will kill him!" Ron cried, and Harry shook his head in horror. Snape's Mark began to burn again, and this time the stench of scorched flesh was worse, as were the screams of agony from the flailing man Harry knelt before.

It wasn't right. Snape had made a terrible mistake, and then spent the rest of his life trying to atone. Dying a horrible, slow death was not a fair exchange for his salvation, and Harry's impressive instincts came to the fore.

The shield he had erected to block the dark magic warped into the visible spectrum and then bent and twisted, going from a sphere surrounding Harry to a fluctuating field around Snape. Harry had to pin the arm with the Mark to the floor, leaning down with all of his weight to try and steady the area he was determined to cleanse. The shield flexed and bent, finally surrounding the affected limb, and Snape fell blessedly still, panting raggedly for air and feebly moaning with each exhale. He was still alive then and Harry let a small part of him feel the jubilation that came with this small achievement. There were voices shouting in the far distance, but Harry ignored them, shifting his hands to grip the Mark that was tormenting his teacher.

Later, Dumbledore would theorise that the Purity of Harry's intentions, his instinctive ability to adapt Magic from familiar spells into astonishingly formidable new forms, as well as his rather impressive ability to love and forgive those that had treated him poorly, had been what allowed him to reach _into_ his Professor's arm and magic and carefully snap the binding that linked Severus Snape to Tom Riddle.

The backlash threatened to destroy everyone in the immediate vicinity and Harry contained it sharply, straining his magic to its limits in an effort to protect those he loved and the man he was trying to free. For a moment everything came into sharp focus and then the world disappeared into a veil of white.

0o0o0o0

Severus had not been expecting to wake up, so the act of doing so had been rather a surprise to him. He wasn't too sure he appreciated still being alive after he saw the mess the Mark had made of his arm either, but knew better than to complain. Pomfrey, who had apparently moved into the house temporarily in response to this latest development, was certain it would heal into a remarkably unscathed limb, once the last of the burns cleared up, and they were doing so unnaturally quickly. He was allowed out of bed the day after he woke, left arm confined to a sling, while both Pomfrey and Dumbledore fussed over him. Even Draco was ridiculously over excited by his arrival in the kitchen, completely forgetting himself and smiling in a sickening fashion.

Potter was still unconscious, exhausted and battling to recover, though his life was in no danger. By his own request, Severus was allowed to visit the Boy-Who-Did-Impossible-Things-And-Survived-His-Meddling-Unscathed, but he did not stay long. Weasley was asleep at the foot of Potters bed and his godfather sat on the other side, holding a pale hand. Severus had stood by the door and glared, trying to come to terms with what had happened, his thoughts whirling in unpleasant circles until he'd been forced from the room to seek some sort of sanctuary.

He owed a Life Debt to the son of James Potter - and he suspected that this debt would never be repaid. He was finally through with the penance he'd been making for more than fifteen years of his life - penance for a single act of supreme foolishness. Joining the Death Eaters had seemed the thing to do at the time, and he'd rapidly come to his senses, though he'd disguised that awareness quickly. Albus Dumbledore had been openly defiant of Severus' Master, and some small part of him had noted that for future use. He'd gone to Albus in the end, warned him of an imminent attack and then begged for death. The Headmaster had stunned him and locked him away, and then offered him the penance that Severus had expected to last the rest of his surely short life. That he'd survived until the Potters were murdered and then had survived a second rising of his hated Master had been a miracle that he'd been unwilling to examine too closely, lest it fall apart under his eyes.

He had no doubt that the brat would manage to off Voldemort - as his students would no doubt phrase it - and that would be a second Life Debt he would owe. Chances were that Potter would never even gloat about it, and that would make it even more unbearable. It would hang over his head, an unspoken thing that haunted him until the end of his days.

Albus had of course come to the conclusion that Severus should not be seen in public - better that the Dark Lord think he had succeeded. It was unlikely that Voldemort would be able to distinguish between the snap of Magic on his own behalf, and someone else snapping it instead. The backlash should have been fatal, and the fact that Severus wasn't in the school at the time played to their advantage. He was now to all intents and purposes a dead man walking.

Thus Severus was stuck at Grimmauld Place, though the company of Draco would be welcome - in small instalments. Well, he would at least be able to tutor all three of the brats properly - there was really no reason why Potter and Weasley couldn't achieve distinction in their potion making and there was no Quidditch to distract them here. Draco would of course prefer the extra potions time - his godson had been constantly underfoot whenever Severus had to brew at Malfoy Manor. He would also take over the Defence lessons. If there was one thing he knew it was the Dark Arts and he saw no reason for Potter not to learn from the very best. There was untapped ability in that brat, and Severus had every desire to see it tapped and trained properly.

At the very least it would go some way to discharging his Debt.

0o0o0o0


	21. battling along

**Chapter twenty-one: battling along**

Ron shook his head as Harry pivoted away from the Potion Masters spell, sweeping an inkpot off the table and launching it as a projectile at the other man, shattering it and covering him in ink when it was only a few feet away.

If anyone had told him that Harry and Snape would start a duelling club this year, and not only duel each other but do so with respect and - dare he say it - enjoyment, he'd have been rude enough to laugh in their face.

Harry had woken after sleeping for a week and a half in a very dazed state. He'd been a bit childlike in his attachment to them all, a sweet pliable child that was most often content when someone was holding him close. This state had lasted for another week, though it had faded a bit each day. Ron had been desperately worried, but his lover had reassured him he was back in his own inimitable way, remembering the privacy wards they used only just in time.

Snape snarled and snapped his wand in a vicious circle, casting without a sound. Harry rolled under that one easily as his opponent clawed at his face to wipe the worst of the ink away. The teenager launched himself swiftly forward, tackling the man around the waist and bearing him to the ground before shoving his wand in the other mans face and growling:

"Yield!"

Snape glared up at him and then nodded once. Harry immediately twirled his wand, soundlessly cleaning the ink away and getting up, offering his opponent a polite hand as well. Snape allowed himself to accept the assistance and banished the wards protecting Malfoy and Ron from stray spells as soon as he was properly upright.

"That was hardly fair, Potter!" Draco scathed at once, "Show some decorum! Muggle brawling has no place in a proper duel!"

"And any advantage available to me while duelling Death Eaters is not to be neglected," Harry snapped back, "They'll hardly show the restraint that the Professor does!"

Snape preened at this stroke to his ego, and Ron stepped down into the classroom proper, waving his own wand to fix a damaged desk. He ignored the glare he got for speaking his spell aloud, and made his way to Harry's side. Snape had a thing about them performing magic silently, and any spoken spell was a mark against their names. Ron and Harry had both found this difficult at first and had spoken the spells under their breath. Harry had soon mastered the silent technique, and Ron could also manage, although he preferred to incant aloud. Draco, oddly enough, had struggled with this, though Ron had speculated to Harry that it was because the blonde loved the sound of his own voice.

"Enough!" Snape interrupted Harry and Draco's heated argument, "The tactic was a valid one, and not one that my former colleagues will be expecting. However, from now on I will, Mr Potter, and I expect to see more magic and less Muggle in our next duel. You are dismissed for the afternoon."

Ron smiled and Harry slung an arm around him, turning and heading back for the stairs. Ron had managed to overcome Draco in their own duel before Harry and Snape had their little go round, which meant that neither teen was responsible for repairing the spell damage in the cellar. Snape duelled all of them in turn, and he was the only one to beat Harry in a duel - not even Ron with the advantage of a lover's knowledge could do that.

Christmas was just around the corner, and Harry and Ron had both sent Hedwig off with various orders to the stores in Diagon Alley. His lover was good at hiding presents, and Ron had learnt some inventive anti-tampering spells to keep his own gifts from prying eyes. That description definitely included Moony and Padfoot who were even more childlike about the upcoming holiday than the alleged children of the house were. Hermione was going home to her parents for the holidays, but Ginny would be there with the rest of Ron's family. There had been no intention of inviting the Potters - in fact they hadn't been mentioned since Draco had joined the household. Ron wasn't sure if the Slytherin knew of their existence, but suspected he didn't. Both Snape and Draco would be joining the household for Christmas, and Harry and Ron had gone in together to get them both a gift. It had been a last minute thought on both their parts, though they wouldn't tell the recipients of the gifts that.

"How did it go?" Sirius voice intruded on his thoughts and Ron grinned at the Animagus.

"We are the Champions," he boasted, and Harry laughed leaning even closer. Ron grinned and hauled him in tight to his side, as was their habit.

"I knew it!" Sirius crowed and hugged them both, before pretending to cower from them, "Eww, manly sweat!"

"We're going to clean up," Harry promised and Ron led the green-eyed teen upstairs. Once in their room he started gathering things for a shower only to hear Harry lock the door and then ward it.

"I see no point in cleaning up just to get dirty again," there was a distinct purr to the other boys voice, and he pounced, knocking the redhead onto their bed and straddling him. Ron moaned when Harry's body rubbed over his in a very provocative manner.

"Good point," he lifted his head for a kiss, and got one, hot and wet and nasty. A mumbled spell had them both naked and he sent his hands plunging to the bum rubbing him up the right way.

"Good idea," Harry groaned, his eyes slitted in pleasure and Ron sent fingers questing. He was rewarded with a groan and a hitch in his lovers breathing, and crooked his finger in a way that he knew would get Harry in the right mood for something a little more substantial.

There was something so easy about this act now - just what he had dreamed of when he and Harry had first gotten together. Their loving was as natural as breathing, and came almost as second nature. All thoughts were blasted from his head as Harry lifted himself up a little, his hand steadying Ron's prick.

The redhead abandoned himself to the sensation of love and really good sex.

0o0o0o0


	22. a family christmas

**Chapter twenty-two: a family Christmas**

Ginny had to admit that she wasn't looking forward to Christmas with the family. Not because she was the youngest and not because she was the only girl and certainly not because she didn't want to spend time with them, but mostly because with the family came Harry Potter - the Boy Who'd Decided to Love her Brother Instead of Her.

Ginny was mature enough to admit that it was a blow to her ego that Harry had chosen her awkward, gawky brother over her and her slim figure, graceful movements and pretty face. He had chosen someone who wouldn't appreciate the finer things in life over someone who not only shared Harry's interests, but could enhance them with her own. She may not be a master chess player, but there was more to life than board games and she just knew that if he'd spent a little more time getting to know her she'd have won his heart easily. He'd only chosen Ron because they were stuck here together anyway.

She was to be the last family member to arrive at Grimmauld Place. Bill and Charlie had arrived a week ago, and the twins pretty much popped in whenever they liked. Her parents had been splitting their time between living at the Burrow and Headquarters for the sake of the boys, and Ginny sort of resented the fact that she was being excluded from all this family life by having to go to school. The fact that Ron had stayed with Harry instead of returning to school once the ward was eliminated had also rankled. Why should her brother get to stay with the Boy Who Lived and not her?

Bill picked her up from the train, slung and arm around her shoulders in his usual fashion and asked a thousand and one questions about her year so far. They were catching the tube and then walking to the house, a Muggle approach that the Death Eaters were likely not to cotton onto. Bill had cast a subtle spell to divert attention and change their appearances, so the likelihood of being recognised was slim.

On the tube, Ginny somehow got onto the topic of Ron stealing Harry, and Bill listened to her list of complaints with a very serious face. She wound down as they emerged at their destination and he steered her over to a Muggle café for a cup of tea.

"Look, Ginny, if you don't mind a word of advice," Bill began and stopped when she huffed at him in annoyance. How typical that they would take her brothers side over hers. Bill frowned at her, an unusual expression for her normally good-natured brother.

"I guess you do mind, then," his tone was short, "Drink up. We should get going."

Ginny bit her lip and looked down at the table miserably. It wasn't often that Bill got mad with her - they'd always managed to get along really well - but when he did he was slow to come around again. A small part of her was demanding that she apologise and just listen to what he had to say, and Ginny swallowed her pride.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly, "It's just that everyone thinks that those two are such a good match, but I know he'd be happier with me!"

"That's just it Ginny, he wouldn't," Bill had apparently decided to say this anyway, and continued on with a firm tone that demanded she listen, "He wants someone who sees beyond the public history, someone who is willing to accept him as he is. Everything you've said to me has related only to the public person, not the private one. You don't know him Ginny, not the way he needs his lover to know him, and I'm not talking about something as unimportant as sex. Look, all you have to do is spend a few days watching the two of them together and you'll see what I mean. Your brother knows Harry better than any of us do, and not because they've been spending time together of late. It's an innate knowledge, and I think Harry needs that. You don't love him, you never did. You loved the idea of him, and that only hurts him, Ginny, in ways you can't begin to understand."

Ginny gaped at her eldest brother and he sat back, draining his tea. He dropped a few coins on the table and ushered her back out into the cold street. Ginny didn't protest; she had too much on her mind.

0o0o0o0

Ron looked up as the door to the conservatory clicked shut. Harry was upstairs with Sirius for their Saturday afternoon chat-come-nap and Remus was in the library with his parents. Ron had remembered that several of their plants would need to be fed just before Christmas and had come in to tend to them while his lover was resting.

Ginny came to stand nearby, examining a Venus flytrap curiously. She'd been in the house a week and tomorrow was Christmas. She'd spent the week watching him and Harry closely. The brunette had confessed to Ron that he was uncomfortable with the scrutiny, and Ron had thought about telling his sister to knock it off with the stalker behaviour. He'd decided not to in the end, there was no pointing starting another argument with her so soon after the last one, and he knew his mother was hoping for a happy Christmas. If she didn't knock it off by Boxing Day they were going to have words. Harry didn't need to be stared at in his own home, and by someone who was technically his sister in law to boot.

"Ron?" Ginny abandoned the carnivorous plant and came to peer at the mice he was dicing for several of their more lethal specimens. He put the knife aside so he wouldn't chop off a finger if things got heated and grabbed a portion of mouse to toss to the nearest eagerly quivering plant. They knew when it was dinnertime and got excited by the thought of fresh mouse.

"Yeah?" not the most welcoming reply, but Ginny had never expected him to be flowery.

"I've been watching you and Harry," nothing like stating the obvious, but his sister was visibly nervous and Ron bit back his smart arse retort, "And I think I understand now."

"Understand what?" Ron asked cautiously. If she was going to come up with some bollocks about Harry choosing Ron because they'd been thrown together so much or that Harry was obviously with Ron for his family he would probably feed his sister to the nearest plant. Not a court in the land would convict him for the justifiable act committed in a fit of rage that he was now remorseful for. Fortunately for her continued existence, Ginny's next words were not what he was expecting.

"About you and Harry," she sighed, "Look, I admit that I was against it, you know that, but after seeing you two together… you talk to each other without even using words, and you understand him a lot better than I ever could. I mean… look I'm sorry what I said about you two before, and I hope you can forgive me. You are meant to be together - even a confounded Slytherin could see it."

"Thanks Ginny," Ron smiled in relief and they had an awkward hug to seal the moment. It was a weight off his mind that his sister at least understood them.

"I don't suppose you'd work on Hermione," Ron muttered as he pulled back and Ginny gave a wry grin. The bushy haired girl was very vocal in her opinion of their relationship - at least vocal on paper and sent via school owls. She didn't like to be wrong, and she had mistaken both the boys' feelings for each other and herself. In a way it had been a blow to her ego that Ron preferred Harry to her.

"I can try," she offered, "If the reward is good enough…"

He swatted at his sister indignantly, but they were both laughing and the awkward moment was over. Ron was pretty sure that her staring days were over as well, and with a bit of luck Harry would be able to relax once more. His green-eyed lover hated attention, unless it was from Ron, or very rarely sought after. Ron couldn't say he understood that, but he at least helped Harry hide from it when he needed. It was a relief that he wouldn't have to help his lover hide from his family this Christmas.

0o0o0o0


	23. a new year has begun

**Chapter twenty-three: a New Year has begun**

The New Year saw a change of weather - iron frosts, bitter winds and air so cold it burned - and a change in the tenuous peace that had been built in Grimmauld Place. Change came through the door one bitter morning in the form of the Daily Prophet. Made up news was better than no news, and they could usually tell truth from fiction with a bit of thought and contact with the Headmaster. Snape had even made it part of his Defence course that the teenagers of the house attempt to ferret the kernels of truth from the stories printed in the paper.

Harry's first inkling of the changes to come was given by Sirius who spat the mouthful of tea he'd just taken all over the table when he unfolded the morning paper. Snape and Draco immediately protested, using inflammatory and unflattering language that the animagus ignored. Even the Weasley's looked faintly disgusted though this was probably a common occurrence in their household.

"What is it?" Harry was closest and passed his serviette over to his godfather while Ron summoned a tea towel to wipe up the table.

"Oh… er, nothing Harry. There's a sale on at Quality Quidditch Supplies," Sirius smiled lamely, and Harry folded his arms, glaring with all the power of a soon-to-be-annoyed teen. Sirius surrendered the paper to his lover and looked relieved that he was no longer able to give Harry precise details about the paper and the article that had surprised him.

Moony went a very pale shade and bit his lip. Harry knew that whatever was in the article related to him, and he knew that it was probably derogatory in the extreme, but he had to know what was being said. After all, it was his reputation to be defended or besmirched as the paper fancied, and after last year he had a deep-seated need to know. Arthur was up out of his seat and reading over the werewolf's shoulder - from the look on his face he was trying very hard not to say or do anything that would give things away. Harry thought idly that it made him look a little constipated.

"Here Potter," Snape said quietly and handed over his personal copy of the Prophet. He hated getting the paper second hand, and didn't trust the two 'Miscreants' not to prank the house copy before he got to it. For a moment, Molly looked as if she'd like to protest, but subsided uneasily when her husband shot her a look. Ron used sharing the paper as a pretext to scoot over and wrap an arm around Harry, which he leant into automatically.

On the front page there was a bold headline, hovering over a picture of a ruined cottage. From the look of the building it had been ruined for quite some time, as if it had been damaged and then simply left to rot away. Harry looked it over curiously before focusing on the words that were literally jumping up and down, demanding attention.

'_Atrocity at Godrics Hollow - Dark Spells performed at the birth home of the Boy Who Lived!'_

A quick skim of the article showed that Fudge had announced that a Dark Spell had discharged itself 'some time ago' and that the Unspeakables had 'finally released their findings' to him personally. According to his Unspeakables, two separate discharges had occurred, and there was the possibility 'that Dark sacrificial magics had been performed'. It was also thought that 'an as yet unknown group of wizards' had removed the 'sacrificial victims' and 'spirited them away to an as yet unknown location'.

"They found out about mum and dad," Harry sighed and passed the paper to Draco, who was sitting beside him. Draco spat his mouthful of tea all over Snape's paper, and then cringed. The resulting glare was awful to behold, as was the silently implied punishment that would doubtless follow.

"Your parents?" Draco turned from the irate Potions Master beside him, "No offence, but I thought they were dead, Potter."

"None taken, and they're not," Harry replied equably, though the memory of his estrangement with the two people in the word who were supposed to accept him without conditions still hurt a little. Sirius and their 'naps' had helped him a lot in overcoming his tendency to inappropriate guilt.

"How is that possible?" Draco demanded, and the Weasley's and Snape looked interested too. It seemed that the method of the Potter's survival had not been passed on to them.

"Tom Riddle used a perverted version of the time turner spell to send them here," Harry replied, "The killing curse I remember being cast must have been the one he used on me, not my mum."

It was Remus turn to spit tea everywhere, and Sirius wiped the side of his face with the already soggy napkin, a long-suffering expression in his eyes. Remus coughed as Charlie patted him cautiously on the back, and Harry looked at his uncle with concern.

"Moony?" he asked, "What's wrong?"

"That's not what happened!" Moony exclaimed heatedly, "Who told you that?"

"Mum and dad," Harry frowned, "Why? What were you told? And by who?"

"The Headmaster said that Vol-Voldemort did cast killing curses on your parents, as well as the perverted time turner spell, but that you invoked a shield of love much as your mother supposedly did while trying to protect you. Because they were outside of time for fifteen years your spell gave them the chance to completely recover," Moony frowned, "Why didn't they tell you the truth?"

Harry shrugged and inched closer to Ron, not really aware that he was doing it. His lover hauled him closer and Harry sent him a grateful smile. Public display be damned, it felt good to have Ron's familiar and solid body supporting his.

"If they have completely recovered, why aren't they here? We could ask them why they didn't tell Potter the truth. Or if they even knew the truth," Draco pointed out innocently, and Ron growled under his breath, as did the werewolf and Grim on the other side of the table.

"We're estranged," Harry said the difficult words in an even voice, "They couldn't accept my family, and I wouldn't give them up."

Ron immediately dropped a kiss on his ear and Harry gave his anxious looking lover a tender smile in reward. The rest of the table nodded, and glared significantly at Draco to shut him up. The blonde subsided with an awkward look of apology as the Floo flared and the Headmaster stepped out.

"Ah," he said quietly, "I see you have read the morning papers."

"Some of us have," Snape muttered, and Harry was mildly surprised that the glare his Potions Master was directing at the tea soaked paper hadn't dried it out already. He waved his wand at it and the tea vanished, the paper refolded itself into crisp lines and settled in its usual spot beside Snape's place.

"Show off," Draco sulked and Ron sniggered. Harry wondered why the blonde hadn't thought to do that, but put it out of his mind.

"Albus," Molly said quietly, "There is some confusion here. How did Harry's parents survive?"

The Headmaster frowned and repeated the explanation he had given Sirius and Remus when he first told them the Potters were still alive. There was silence as everyone digested this and Draco shot Harry slightly awed looks. Vanishing Snape's Dark Mark was incredible enough, but saving someone from the Killing Curse as an eighteen month old was even more impressive. Harry was mildly impressed himself, if resigned to being even more freakish than before.

"Did the Potter's know this?" there was an edge to Snape's voice that surprised Harry. If he thought about it he assumed that Snape was glad not to have to deal with the leader of the Marauders as well as the two surviving members. Moony and Padfoot were at least civil now, and Snape kept his sneers to a minimum when talking to them. The edge to his voice made it sound as if Snape didn't approve of James rejection of Harry. Surely, Harry thought, Snape would be happy to see his old enemy estranged from his only son. He put the question aside though, well aware that Snape was a very complicated person and figuring him out over breakfast was an unlikely task to say the least.

"They did," Albus nodded, "I assume this is not what they told you Harry?"

"They only told me about the time turner curse. I assumed they'd never been hit with the killing curse at all - that the green flash I remembered was for me."

"Wait a minute, you remember the attack?" Draco burst out and flinched when Snape kicked him under the table. His former Head of House was glaring in silent warning.

"Only when I get close to a Dementor," Harry's voice held a subtle barb that made Draco flush. His pranks in third year suddenly took on a much more sinister aspect than he'd planned. Albus sighed and settled into an empty chair.

"I don't know why they didn't tell you the full story," he murmured, "Harry, had I known…"

"It's ok sir," Harry smiled, "It isn't vital information. The important thing is that they're alive, right?"

"Yes," Albus twinkled and looked around at the silent breakfast table. The Weasley family were obviously off in their own thoughts, Moony and Padfoot looked a little hot under the collar, and the two Slytherins of the house were uncomfortable to say the least.

"I will have to find a way to deal with this mess," Albus warned Harry, "It may be time to go public with some of our information. On the plus side that would mean that Sirius could soon have his name cleared."

"Where are mum and dad at the moment?" Harry asked idly, once more inching closer to Ron. Moony got a fond look in his eye and Padfoot hauled his werewolf closer. Snape looked vaguely disgusted but had long since given up protesting the public display, or spectacle as he liked to call it.

"Living with Muggles," Albus sighed, "It's complicated Harry, and we will have to be a little creative with the facts, but it is better that you don't know just yet. There is every possibility that you will be forced into some sort of public reunion with the Potters - I hope you can find it in yourself to at least play along. I know this situation is not your fault, but it may well be that you have to be the mature one."

That was a pretty stinging condemnation of the senior Potters right there, and Harry nodded, his eyes as wide as Ron's. Molly smiled proudly and offered the Headmaster breakfast, which was declined. The venerable wizard got up, wished them all a happy New Year, and Flooed away again, to begin dealing with the mess.

0o0o0o0


	24. cleared for magic

**Chapter twenty-four: cleared for magic**

"Harry, can I have a word?" Sirius stuck his head around the door and Harry looked to Moony for permission. The professor nodded and Harry left his semi-transformed potato behind to follow his godfather up the stairs.

"What's up?" Harry asked, plopping down gracelessly into the armchair that Sirius waved to. The escaped convict smiled fondly at the teen and settled nervously onto the nearest bit of furniture, which happened to be a coffee table.

"Umm, you know how I've got an appointment with that Healer today?" Sirius began and Harry leaned forward, a glint in his eye as he interrupted.

"The appointment that you made a big fuss about not wanting anyone to come along or even wait for you outside the room? Nope, this is the first I've heard of it."

Sirius blushed. He had made a bit of an idiot of himself about not wanting anyone with him or waiting for him. He was going to be checked and possibly cleared for magic today, and he'd had a bit of a tiff with Moony over the werewolf's attendance. They'd made it up of course, though Sirius still seemed to have difficulty explaining properly why he didn't want his lover along.

"Yeah well…" he sighed and ran a hand through his already messy hair. The appointment was in twenty minutes time, and his courage had deserted him. Unfortunately he still didn't want his lover around - he wanted to be able to report good news after the fact instead of facing failure in front of the man at the centre of his world - but he did want company after all.

"Relax Padfoot, Moony and I thought this might happen. We even had a little bet on it. He's said I can come with you," Cub smirked at him and he closed his mouth.

"Bloody hell," he'd picked up that habit from their Pup and Harry laughed at him outright. Embarrassment rapidly faded to annoyance.

"Alright it's not that funny," he grumbled and played the sympathy card, "I just don't want to be alone."

Harry sobered and nodded. Sirius gave him a small smile and then the coffee table broke and ruined the moment completely.

"Good thing there's a healer coming," Harry snorted as he got up to help his godfather out of the wreckage.

0o0o0o0

As usual the Healer said very little beyond orders such as turn your head and cough. Spell after spell was cast over him, and he had to hold his wand for a few, then put the wand aside and have them cast again. All in all he was very tired of being treated as nothing more than an interesting magical case, and more than a little embarrassed that he sometimes flinched from the simplest of spells. This was part of the reason he didn't want his lover to see him during the exam. Why he didn't mind that Harry saw him was complicated and not something he could fully explain even to himself.

"Very well Mr Black," the Healer hemmed after a moment, "I think we'll try you with a little spell again."

"Again?" it was the first time Harry had spoken since he'd entered the room and taken a seat by the door. The exam was always carried out in Sirius room, and he was usually in bed by the end of it.

"Mr Black has attempted magic the last two exams, and suffered a flashback in each," the Healer stated flatly, "In fact Mr Potter it would be best if you arranged a protective shield over yourself at this point - he can be violent."

"That won't be necessary," Harry's quiet reply stunned the Healer and had Sirius smiling in pleasure. His godson had nothing to fear from him - even if he was a little out of his mind. He shot Harry a grateful look, got a cheeky wink in reply and picked up his wand. Lumos was the simplest spell he could do, and last time he hadn't even passed out though the flashback was a particularly nasty one.

The truth was that using magic tended to make him panic - and he couldn't confess that to his more than patient lover. Remus deserved to have someone who was complete. Telling Harry his problem was the first step towards the painful necessity of breaking off his relationship with Remus. He was going to let the werewolf decide if he wanted a relationship with a Wizard that was afraid to use magic. The Veil had changed him - that was undeniable - and the changes had not been for the better.

"Lumos," his voice wavered in the still room and the tip of his wand ignited obediently. He didn't even feel tired, but the sight of that small light, created by an invisible force, one that he was connected to, one that he was channelling, one that had been used to condemn him and lock him away, one that had bled away his strength, his health, his life in an unstoppable, steady draw…

His chest tightened, his vision tunnelled and the walls closed in. Sirius flung the wand away and shrieked, phantom hands grabbing him, dragging him away to a place that was cold, forever cold and lonely, where there was no joy, only despair. He fell to the floor, still screaming, a part of him glad that there were silencing wards up, that Remus hadn't witnessed this each time.

Strong arms grabbed him from behind before he could topple over and he was pulled against a thin chest. He shuddered and wriggled his arms, wanting freedom, wanting to get away from the fear, knowing he was being a total idiot and unable to stop. Tears spilled down his cheeks even as he screamed for mercy, begged the phantom hands not to take him there.

"Hush, Padfoot, hush," the words were faint, and not the stunning spell that he was expecting, "Hush, Padfoot, hush."

Over and over the words came, gentle and warm, strength in them and love. The arms around him tightened protectively and rocked him away from the phantom hands. The band around his chest loosened and he drew in shuddering gasps of air, sinking back into the warmth the thin chest offered, squirming a little until he could hide his head on a shoulder. This was Cub, this was familiar and welcome and he wrapped a fist in Cub's shirt, seeking solace, seeking a miracle.

"Hush," the single word was breathed over his head and he hushed, his breathing slowing to normal, his memories returning to their rightful place. He sighed in time with the next hush and got a gentle squeeze as a reward. He floated in the peace and strength being offered, letting it pull him slowly back to what he laughingly referred to as his right mind.

"Padfoot?" the question was gentle, and he looked up obediently into the green eyes of his Cub, "Do you want to try again?"

Before he could make a decision either way his wand was summoned and held out silently. He took it with trembling fingers and bit his lip. Cub's arms remained wrapped around him and he pointed the wand away from them both.

"Lumos," the wand lit up and he shuddered, the arms that gripped him tightening. He held it for a moment and then loosened his grip, drawing an arm back to throw it away again. Quick as a flash, Cub's hand covered his, holding the wand steady as the light went out. Nothing was said, but he knew he had to try again. He didn't want this to beat him; he certainly didn't want to spend the rest of his life without any real magic. He wanted to be with Moony and Moony needed him to be a full Wizard.

"Lumos," he whispered and the light came back. His skin crawled but he managed to hang onto the wand this time, Cub's hand warm around his. There was subtle strength in that simple grip and Sirius sighed, drawing on it.

"Lumos!" the wavering light strengthened and shone brightly. He held it for a moment before extinguishing it, and then focussing on the pillow on his bed.

"Windgardium Leviosa!" the pillow wobbled into the air and hung there, all ungainly and soft for a moment before falling back to the bed. Something in Padfoot's head broke away, and he straightened up, trialling spell after spell, not really minding when Cub's hand slowly slid away from his, barely noticing when the bolstering arm slipped away too. He climbed to his feet, casting firmly, moving from simple spells to more complex, feeling his magic warp and bend to his will, completely under his control.

The block had broken. Sirius Black was back! Look out world!

0o0o0o0


	25. this means war

**Chapter twenty-five: this means war**

Ron had to say that whatever had happened at Sirius appointment with the Healer - and he knew something had happened because although Sirius was cleared to cast magic once more he'd had a talk with his werewolf that had upset them both for days - he was glad to see something of the Marauder spirit return to the mans dark eyes. Harry had been silent on the topic, though he'd whispered to Ron that Sirius was no longer ill, and in no danger from casting magic. Ron didn't need to know the details; he was just relieved that the man had regained some of his former exuberance.

The redhead had enough to focus on anyway. There were four incredibly complex potions that they were currently researching prior to brewing, three new transfiguration spells that needed mastering and no less than eight charms he was working on. In addition to that he and Harry were continuing to maintain the conservatory - Malfoy had declined languidly when invited to join them, and Snape didn't know about it yet - and they were continuing to practice defence skills with Snape in the form of ever more complex duels and strategy sessions.

He was also trying to get Harry to take a 'top' roll in bed. So far Ron had been the 'doer' as it were, even though they were using a wide variety of positions that allowed Harry to be in charge of how much, how fast and how often, he had yet to get his lover to agree to take the complete lead in their lovemaking. Ron loved what they did, and he knew that Harry did too, but he was getting worried about taking too much from his lover.

In addition to all this, Fudge and Dumbledore were having a carefully orchestrated battle in the papers, over the so-called atrocity performed at the birthplace of Harry Potter. Fudge was not as stupid as he seemed and had quickly come to realise that the Headmaster knew more than he was letting on. He couldn't come out and accuse Dumbledore of performing Dark Arts like that, and nor could he drop hints that the Headmaster had been involved. That made their litany of statements, counter statements and Fudge's press releases a beautifully choreographed exercise in media manipulation.

The Dark Lord seemed to be taking some time off, because Death Eater activity dropped during all of this, a bad sign as far as Harry was concerned. Malfoy seemed to think it was perfectly normal for his almost enslaver to suddenly stop all Dark Activity and made a very snide remark about a 'Death Eaters annual trip to Baden Baden' which got him a severe reprimand from Snape.

Malfoy, Ron knew, was finding it very difficult adjusting to having Snape available to him full time. Even at school, the Potions Master had been very busy with a myriad of duties, which meant that any time he spent with Malfoy was short and the blonde could manipulate his version of events carefully in advance to be seen in the best of light. Now Snape was available to him most of the day, and the blonde had to watch everything he said and did. From his time with Harry, Ron knew that the sudden close supervision was exhausting and even unnerving.

Therefore, in order to help Malfoy out, Ron suggested a sort of prank war in the house. The Marauders could get in some practice before the twins descended on the house for half term, and Malfoy would have something legitimate to whine to Snape about.

He was more than surprised when Snape announced that he would be participating in the prank war himself, and that they had all better be on their guard. Ron was immediately planning to secure a supply of safe foodstuffs, because he was sure the potions master was capable of slipping all kinds of things into their food. Harry mentioned that he thought their professor was joining in out of self-preservation and a desire to wreak vengeance on anyone who pranked him, and Malfoy had stated very clearly that anyone who messed with him was sure to regret it. Throwing a statement like that out in front of Marauders was just asking for trouble as far as Ron was concerned and he knew that the blonde would live to regret it. Ron just hoped he got a few decent pictures.

0o0o0o0

"Nice hair," Harry complimented his godfather. The pink and green stripes were rather… strident.

"Yeah, Moony's in for it now," the animagus dropped into the chair opposite Harry's and looked at the stack of books his godson was currently working with, "By Godric Harry, you're turning into a Ravenclaw!"

Harry snorted, glad to see the spirit that he'd associated with his godfather back in full force. He'd been very upset about the block that Sirius had been struggling with - and the fact that he hadn't told anyone about it either hadn't helped. The Healer said afterwards that Harry's actions had been most unexpected, and his success was incredible. The Healer couldn't even get near his patient when the man was in that state. They'd had a couple of Saturday nap discussions about that.

"How goes the prank on Malfoy?" Sirius leaned back in his chair and Harry shrugged. He wasn't about to reveal any details to anyone about the pranks he had in store. Not even Ron knew what was coming, especially after his lover had changed Harry's gender 'by accident' and Snape had informed him there was no reversing the botched potion that Ron had snuck him. Weasley and Snape were a very unlikely team and the prank had very nearly succeeded.

"I've warded the door," Sirius seemed not to mind that he wasn't going to get a reply, "I want to talk to you."

This sounded serious - no pun intended - and Harry marked his place and shut up the books. They were stacked carefully on top of his notes off to the side and he gave his godfather his undivided attention.

"Dumbledore sent a note with Fawkes, about the situation with your parents," Sirius sighed, looking as old as the Headmaster. His friend's rejection of their son, a child that he thought of as his own in his fashion, hurt him deeply. Remus had wept the night that Sirius had thrown James from the house, and he'd been so intent on comforting his distraught lover that he'd never confessed his own feeling of betrayal. Harry knew all of this because of their Saturday afternoon naps - turn about was fair play and he'd insisted that Sirius add his own point of view to Harry's perception of the Potters actions and motives.

"What is going to happen?" Harry reached a hand out and Sirius took it in both his own, squeezing tenderly. Harry offered a small smile and braced himself for unwelcome news.

"Dumbledore has been leading the Unspeakables in the right direction and they'll find James and Lily soon, living in the Muggle world. There will be a cover story that will follow the truth pretty closely…"

"Amnesia, and they didn't contact the magical world yet because they couldn't figure out who might still be at large," Harry summed up in a flash of insight and Sirius nodded sadly.

"They'll be brought in, and informed that you survived. Albus is concerned that he won't be able to orchestrate the way they meet you. Fudge is likely to turn it into a public spectacle," Sirius sighed, "I'm sorry Harry. You'll have to meet them in public, at the very least in front of the Minister and make it seem as if they have never seen you."

"Maybe a small Obliviate?" Harry suggested, grimacing, "I can't… Sirius I can't pretend to love them, not after the way they treated my chosen family."

"You don't need a memory charm," Sirius got up and dragged his chair next to Harry. The next thing he knew he was wrapped in his godfathers arms, familiar warmth and scent surrounding him, "Cub, none of us are asking you to pretend to love them. Just meet them in public, acknowledge that they are your parents. Albus thinks they might have to come back here for a while, but then they can move out again, once the fuss dies down."

"Will they at least clear your name?" Harry mumbled, "You deserve public recognition."

"That will come in time," Sirius confirmed and Harry squeezed him in approval. His godfather shouldn't have to remain a hunted outcast. They sat for a while in silence and Sirius sighed and drew back.

"Ok?" the grey eyes looked him over closely and Harry nodded, summoning a smile for the man. Sirius smiled back and pulled out his wand, removing the wards and heading for the door.

"One more thing," Sirius said as he opened the door and Harry didn't duck quickly enough. He wasn't sure what that spell had done, but he yelled anyway and ran after his laughing godfather, catching a glimpse of his new hairstyle - or rather total lack of hair - in a hall mirror on his way past.

0o0o0o0


	26. and the envelope please

**Chapter twenty six: and the envelope please…**

When Harry straightened up from the Floo he was greeted with the sight of a pompously satisfied Minister for Magic, his entourage, various members of the Press, Kingsley and Tonks and Headmaster Dumbledore. The silver haired Headmaster was wearing deep blue robes with golden trim and a dusting of golden glitter over the top. It was the most sombre that Harry had ever seen the man dress, and it worried him.

"Harry!" Fudge beamed and made as if to step forward. Dumbledore held his arms out and Harry stepped into them, hugging the older man gratefully. He was expecting to have instructions whispered into his ear or something, but Dumbledore simply folded him into a strong hug, such strength radiating off the elderly Wizard that Harry could ignore the flash bulbs and whispered comments.

"How are you dear boy?" Dumbledore asked as he let Harry step back a little though his hands remained on Harry's arms.

"Worried," Harry replied honestly, "The stuff in the Prophet has been pretty unbelievable Professor. Is it even possible?"

"But of course, Harry," Fudge interrupted and stretched a hand out towards Harry who leaned away from the touch nervously, allowing himself to be shepherded into a space next to Dumbledore. The Minister was too much a politician to allow himself to show how the action angered him, but Harry could tell that the man took the slight personally. He wasn't bothered about that - Fudge was no friend to Harry, no matter what past favours the Minister had dispensed as part of his political machinations.

"Harry, we have been able to piece together some of what had happened the night that You Know Who visited your parents house, and the discovery of your parents has allowed us to confirm some of what we supposed to be the truth. The rest, dear boy, can only be confirmed by the surviving witnesses, but as you were too young to recall the event and You Know Who is unlikely to volunteer any information, I fear those suppositions will never be one hundred percent confirmed."

Stung by the Ministers use of Dumbledore's term of endearment, Harry glared at the man and shot him down where he stood. This was going to be hard enough without having to fend off 'Uncle Fudge'.

"Actually Minister, since you forced me into close proximity with Dementors in my third year I do remember some of that night - mainly my mother pleading for my life, and my fathers final words to her before he sacrificed himself for our safety," his voice was cold and cutting, as was his glare, "I even remember hearing the Killing Curse being cast over my crib, though I had always assumed that it was the curse that Voldemort had cast on mum that I was remembering."

He already knew that revealing those details would only corroborate what the papers had reported, and the slap at Fudge and his handling of the matter was valuable to the Order. Fudge needed to be taken down a peg or two, and the Boy Who Lived was the perfect choice for that particular task. Not only would the revelation of the memories excuse any awkwardness in this initial public meeting, but it would hint to the papers that the Ministry and its ham handed actions had put Harry through some rather difficult ordeals. Public opinion was a tricky thing to manipulate, and as long as Harry didn't lay it on too thick they'd achieve their goals. Or that was what Snape had said when he'd taken Harry to one side and discussed strategy for this first meeting. Other matters had been discussed as well, and Harry was in line to set up some serious pay back.

"Well, well, in the benefit of hindsight," Fudge smiled and changed the topic, as Harry had known he would, "But today we are here for a joyous occasion, one that I am honoured to be present for Harry; I know that there have been several conflicting reports in the Press, but I am pleased to announce that we here at the Ministry have unravelled the mystery of the Dark Art that was performed at your childhood-home just lately. You Know Who was undoubtedly involved; in fact, he was most likely casting a rite to complete a spell he had set into motion at the time of his attack on you all those years ago. He managed to retrieve your parents from the Void they had been cast into, though they managed to escape him almost immediately and went into hiding. We have managed to locate them, and today they would like to meet you."

Harry was glad that Dumbledore put his arm around Harry at that point, as his knees felt a little weak and his stomach was churning. He shifted closer gratefully and looked at the door that Fudge was pointing to. The Potters stood there, dressed in a rather splendid set of highly fashionable robes that the Minister had no doubt provided. Harry himself wore a set of nice robes that Molly had made him especially for today; their homemade folds were a warm and comforting weight around his body now.

Lily burst into tears as the cameras went mad and reporters started shouting questions. James looked rather shell shocked at the chaos while Fudge smirked in satisfaction. Dumbledore nudged Harry forward and he stumbled over to the Potters. Lily wrapped her arms around him, her body shaking with sobs and he hugged her tentatively. He hated seeing people cry; it tore at him dreadfully. James embraced them both, gathering Harry to his chest and knotting his hands in Lily's robes.

"Harry," James sighed and Harry let them hold him, let the Press take its pictures, let Fudge smirk and plot to exploit him, all the while wishing for Ron.

0o0o0o0

Dumbledore had intervened when the hug broke up. He'd taken one look at Harry and cut things short with consummate skill. The Potters had to go back to Grimmauld Place with Harry to preserve the fiction that the Potters were one little happy family. The Minster had wanted them to spend some time in a Ministry controlled location but Harry had worried publicly about his studies and Fudge was forced to allow them to return to wherever it was that Harry called home.

The family was waiting in the kitchen, with Snape also sitting in a corner sipping at tea while Draco hovered in the doorway trying to look casual. Harry moved into Ron's arms at once, letting his lover's scents cleanse him of all those stares and speculation.

"Cub?" the gentle question had him pulling his face out of the crook of Ron's neck to reassure the worried werewolf.

"I'm ok Moony," he smiled, "Fudge was just a bit tricky to deal with."

"Hmmm," Sirius didn't seem convinced, "Well, Mr and Mrs Potter, you're in the room you had before, if you'd like to unpack. Dinner will be ready as soon as Harry gets off his arse and makes it."

"Yeah yeah, I hear the bark and don't fear the bite," Harry shot a crooked grin at his godfather and peeled away from Ron reluctantly. Ron's eyes promised him a hot bout of sex later and Harry smiled before heading to the pantry, rummaging for ingredients and inspiration.

"What are you in the mood for, Uncle Severus?" he called over his shoulder, glad that he could hide his face for a moment to get his expression under control.

"Hmmm," Snape droned as Lily and James both choked and Sirius barked out a laugh. Draco also choked in surprise, which Harry counted as a bonus, "I shall leave that to you, nephew."

Harry turned and gave his parents an innocent look, secretly enjoying the shell-shocked expressions on their faces. It was clear that they were doing everything in their power to refrain from making some kind of comment or protest - after all it was their inability to accept Harry for who he was now that had led to the current uncomfortable situation.

Lily forced a smile and led her stunned and unhappy husband from the kitchen by the elbow, her grip white knuckled. The moment the door was shut Snape hit it with a privacy spell and the Marauders and Ron cracked up. Even Draco's smirk was less pointed and more amused than usual.

"Brilliant," Ron chortled, "Professor, your delivery was perfect."

"Thank you Weasley," Snape bowed his head regally, "Now then Potter, what is for dinner?"

"I can knock up bangers and mash," Harry turned to survey the pantry again, "With steamed veg."

"That will do," Snape approved and Ron snorted once more before moving to help peel and chop vegetables.

0o0o0o0


	27. patching up

**Chapter twenty-seven: patching up**

Hermione and Ginny came to the house for half term. The Potters had been in residence for only a week, and had made an effort to be polite to every member of the household. Harry couldn't find it in himself to try and renew their 'proper' relationship; he would not give up his heart family for his birth one and the Potters had not indicated that they accepted Harry's decision. The prank war had ended with Snape and Harry's little effort; the Marauders had declared that no one could top that effort and crowned them Champions. Both Harry and Snape had been presented with a gaudy trophy each that Sirius had transfigured from an old tin cup and a battered cushion; surprisingly, the Potions Master kept it to be used as a paper weight.

Snape had discovered that Malfoy was using the potions ingredients that Harry and Ron had cultivated in the conservatory without contributing labour to their care. The resulting lecture had been blistering and Malfoy now joined them in all their gardening activities, though he did as little as he could and whined the entire time. Harry ignored him, though Ron had gotten hot under the collar several times and shouted at the blonde in irritation. Their rows were quite spectacular and Harry had seen Snape pause in the doorway to eavesdrop on at least three occasions, though the man had yet to intervene in the arguments. Harry had a feeling that Snape was waiting for something particular to happen and while he resented that Ron was the one being used as a catalyst he also knew that weighing in with his own two knuts worth would not help the situation - in fact Ron had warned Harry to stay out of it, knowing how much the brunette hated bad atmospheres.

Ginny and Hermione arrived in good order, were a little surprised to find the house so full of people who had been declared dead at one point or another - Ron and Harry had not been able to tell Hermione that Snape was still alive of course, and neither could Ginny. The secret of the Potion Masters continued existence was one that was carefully guarded and Hermione had not been there in summer to meet the Potters. The bushy haired girl shot Harry several unreadable looks, but treated him much as she had when they were all at school together. Harry and Ron sat with her in the newly restored library - Sirius had neatly removed it from the house during the prank war and then told the two bibliophiles in the house that he couldn't recall how to restore it, sparking the one and only alliance between potions maser and werewolf in the entire war - and worked on their weekly assignments while she worked on her school work. Ron was pleased to discover that they were at least half a year ahead of her in both Charms and Transfiguration, and Harry had a suspicion that they were working at Auror level in Defence. Potions were difficult to gauge as the current Hogwarts instructor was a former Professor that had taught Snape all he knew about the subject as a post-graduate from the school. Snape had confirmed that he was also a Death Eater, to which Ron had retorted that You Know Who wasn't much for original thinking. None of them were naïve enough to think that Voldemort had only placed one spy in the school, especially as Harry was known to have friends there.

Ginny was also working on her holiday homework, though she insisted that Harry and Ron help her out with a few of the assignments as she was heading towards her OWLs at the end of the year.

"Doesn't Hermione help you?" Ron asked and Harry winced, knowing from the way the girls chose not to sit near each other at meals and in the library that they were not getting along too well at the moment.

"No she doesn't, Ron," Ginny said sharply, "Hermione has her own studies to attend to."

Which had never stopped their friend from interesting herself in other people's study habits, but Ron had apparently got the message because he didn't say anything and Harry patted Ginny on the arm before starting to explain in a quiet voice how the family of tickling charms were related to the family of scourging charms. Hermione watched this explanation closely, as well as Harry's demonstration, which would have been easy to ignore once.

"Hermione, could you not stare?" Harry burst out finally, "Merlin, it's like being an exhibit in my own home!"

"Sorry," she muttered stiffly, "I just… never mind."

"Actually I do mind," Harry snapped back; if he couldn't fight with Malfoy at Ron's request then he could fight with Hermione, "Because you made it perfectly clear that you didn't approve of me stealing your boyfriend, which means that any staring privileges you once had have been cancelled."

"Oh so I can only stare at you if I approve of you and Ron?" Hermione snapped back, tossing her quill onto the table angrily and ignoring the ink blotches on her assignment.

"No, you can only stare at me if you admit that we're not doing anything wrong! We didn't wake up one morning and decide that we were going to piss you off by getting together! Ron and I aren't doing this because it's convenient!"

"I know that!" Hermione yelled, "Do you really think I'm still upset about you and Ron being together?"

"Yes!" Harry's raised voice matched hers, and the Weasley siblings were oddly quiet. Normally Ron would have jumped in by now, he hated Harry getting upset over anything, and though the redhead couldn't always avoid that happening he was always there at Harry's side.

"Well I'm not! I've got eyes you know!" she glared at him angrily; "Do you think I'd come back and visit if I was still upset?"

"No!" Harry snapped back and then her words sunk in. His eyes widened and he sat back.

"You're not mad at us?" he asked in a quieter voice, his throat aching slightly from all the yelling.

"No," she smiled, the angry flush fading from her face, "Of course not. I admit I didn't take it too well, but I've had some time to think and… well if I can't have him at least I know you'll take good care of him."

Ron spluttered in indignation, which Harry disregarded easily; hope building in his chest.

"That's not an easy job," Harry admitted. Their friendship had always been one that was marked with abrupt changes in mood, yelling at each other one minute, ganging up on each other the next. They could go from anger to humour in a wave of a wand, all animosity forgotten as they forgave the trespasses of the past.

"Oi!"

They ignored Ron's indignant yell to gaze at each other sympathetically.

"I can imagine," Hermione sighed, "Between the lack of interest in his studies and his terrible table manners…"

"Not to mention his tendency to annoy people," Harry nodded, while Ron went quite red and glared at them both.

"Harry, you'll be sleeping on the couch at this rate," the redhead warned and Ginny snickered at the threat. Harry rolled his eyes.

"A break from the snoring?" Hermione suggested and Harry sighed. He shot Ron a smile, and Ron twitched his lips in reply before returning to his scowling.

"Actually, I'm the snorer in the family, they've even made a recording of me," Harry shook his head, "Must be lingering damage from that bludger I took to the face in Quidditch practice."

The four of them laughed, and the tension eased. Harry returned to his demonstration for Ginny and Hermione started asking Ron Transfiguration questions, trying to get more information than was being offered in Hogwarts as usual. She banished the ink blotches with an absent wave of her wand, the familiar gesture as comforting to Harry as a good strong hug from his godfather.

All they needed was Madam Pince hovering in the background and it could have been the school library all over again.

0o0o0o0

Ron winced in sympathy as Harry went flipping head over heels through the air, though his lover landed catlike on his feet, wand ready to cast a retaliatory spell. Hermione had a very tight grip on his arm, and Ginny was gaping in pure astonishment as Snape and Potter went head to head in one of their trademark duels.

"Hermione, my hand is going numb, ease up on the death grip," Ron tugged at her fingers, "Relax, Snape promised Sirius that they'd go easy today."

"This is going easy?" Hermione squeaked as Snape deflected Harry's spell and a small crater was blasted in the brick floor. Ron nodded, musing that this was very easy on each other, as both opponents were speaking their spells and had agreed to stay at what Snape called beginner levels. That meant a lot of bangs and flashes, not to mention collateral damage around the edges of the room. Harry had shrunk all the furniture before hand; not wanting to waste time repairing splintered desks after the duel.

"You don't think Potter would have lasted this long if the Professor had been duelling at his true level of ability, do you?" Malfoy sneered from where he lounged against the wall.

"Shut up Malfoy," Sirius sighed, "Your whining gives me a headache."

Ron glanced at Harry's godfather and smiled. Malfoy seemed to do nothing but whine lately, nothing was good enough and even Moony had snapped at the blonde teen. The werewolf was currently watching the duel with avid eyes, clearly appreciating the moves he was seeing. There was a dull roar and half of the wall behind Snape caught fire, the flames reaching greedily for the potions master, who had to do some fancy casting to safeguard from the unexpected attack.

"Bloody hell," James Potter's whisper was awed, "I thought Harry had missed his target then."

"Deliberately," Moony said sharply, not taking his eyes off the scene below as his Cub leapt forward, ensnaring Snape in a series of containment spells and summoning his wand. Hermione was almost breathless at Ron's side, and a glance at the top of the stairs showed that Lily Potter wasn't much better off. This was the first time anyone other than the three teens and Snape had been present for a duel, and Snape's insistence that they duel during the holiday had been a surprise to Ron. Their teacher usually insisted that no one but his students be present.

Harry was cancelling the spells he'd used to win and putting out the fire quickly. Snape reclaimed his wand and repaired the crater in the floor before removing the shield he had cast over the stairs to keep their audience safe.

"Not bad, Potter," Snape drawled as Harry finished putting the furniture back to rights, "A little slow on the third containment spell."

"I've never tried that one before, sir," Harry replied evenly, as his parents sputtered indignantly, ignoring the Potters as he usually did, "And I'd only read the theory this morning when we were in the library with the girls."

"Hmm," Snape droned, "You should review the wand movement then. Very well, dismissed."

"Thanks sir," Harry was sweaty and slightly out of breath, one of Ron's favourite combinations, but he was smiling as he headed up the stairs, pausing to accept a hug from Moony and Padfoot, both of whom had something to whisper in his ear. Whatever it was Harry's eyes were glowing with happiness when he reached Ron and the girls, yet another of Ron's favourite sights.

"I need to clean up," Harry smiled at Hermione and Ginny and Ron interjected a comment of his own, that he too needed to clean up. Hermione rolled her eyes and Ginny shook her head, but the girls went off to the conservatory with Ron's chess set quite happily while Ron chased Harry up the stairs.

"You're frisky," Harry laughed as he was pinned to the bed.

"Horny," Ron corrected, "You're all sweaty and out of breath, two of my favourite looks on you."

He was rubbing against Harry deliberately and his lover chuckled and sent a spell arrowing at the door to ensure their privacy. Ron was flipped onto the mattress and pinned down in turn, thoroughly kissed and then Harry leapt away, pulling his clothes off quickly and then stripping Ron, rolling the redhead about on the bed. Ron ended up on his back with Harry between his legs, stark naked and painfully eager for more. Harry's fingers trailed from Ron's prick to his opening and Ron nodded breathlessly, keening and arching into the touch.

"Alright then," Harry breathed and proceeded to fulfil one of Ron's greatest wishes.

0o0o0o0


	28. slytherin alliance

**Chapter twenty-eight: Slytherin alliance**

"Weasley, stop smirking," Draco's frustrated drawl cut through the air of the conservatory, and Harry sighed, looking up at his lover. Ron had been smirking for days, ever since they'd… well, Harry could now understand why his lover liked their bed play so much, and if he hadn't been worried about hurting Ron by trying again so soon they'd be upstairs and hard at it. Of course, it was annoying to be smirked at if you didn't understand the reasoning behind it, and Draco had been on the wrong end of the smirk for days now. Draco preferred to be the smirk-er not the smirk-ee and was that even a word? He was drawn from his musing once more when Draco slammed his trowel onto the bench they were potting at.

"Weasley!" the drawl was deserted in favour for a sharp tone with a lot of volume behind it.

"I heard you the first time Malfoy," Ron's voice was mild, a sure sign that his temper was simmering below the surface. Harry had learned about that tone back before they'd become lovers. He'd also learned how to blend into the furniture while Ron and Hermione - the usual person that elicited that tone - blew up at each other.

"I know you heard me!" Draco's voice was rapidly tending towards shrill, "What bothers me is that you ignored me! As always! I may be here under sufferance, and dependent on your good will, but even prisoners in Azkaban have more rights than I!"

"What sufferance?" Ron's voice was also rising in volume, though Harry was happy to hear his friend stay away from the shrill tone that the fuming blonde had just treated them to, "When have we told you that you were under sufferance? We've bent over backwards for you Malfoy! Invited you time and again to join in, asked you to come along with us! We've respected your privacy and done our best to ensure you were as comfortable as we could make you! What more do you want? Elf service? We don't have one! Better food? We all eat the same things! You've no right to compare this house to Azkaban!"

"Oh yes, you want me around! As the butt for your jokes!" Malfoy was getting quite red in the face Harry mused, and his grey eyes were wild. Snape's shadow appeared in the passage, but Harry didn't draw attention to that fact. He had a feeling that the row Snape had been hoping for was about to ensue.

"It was a prank war! We were all under attack!" Ron snapped, "Get over yourself! You're not in Slytherin now you know! Just about everyone in this house was sorted into Gryffindor, which means we all muck in together, not sit around expecting preferential treatment according to some Blood related pecking order!"

That was a pretty good analysis of the House of Slytherin right there, Harry mused, even as Draco snorted. Draco had initially had a hard time settling in, mainly because he seemed o be expecting a certain amount of deference, and that wasn't how Sirius and Moony worked. Adults had a certain rank, but Sirius rarely acted like an adult, and Moony didn't seem to mind that he was treated as one of the lads instead of as a Professor. That was different during lessons, but there they acted as they had in Hogwarts by unspoken agreement.

Draco was breathing heavily, his hair now as wild as his eyes from where he'd run his hands through it.

"Look Draco," Ron lowered his voice through an effort of will that Harry admired, "I know that you don't want to be here…"

"You don't know anything! I don't have anywhere else to go! How can you possibly understand the effort it takes to live everyday with people who could throw you away on the slightest whim! The effort to maintain perfect manners, perfect poise and presence! All because if you don't you'll end up driven out, and that would lead surely to a painful and lingering death!"

"We'd never…" Harry breathed in horror, "Malfoy…"

"What!!" Draco shrieked and Harry at last saw the pain and uncertainty that the blonde had successfully been hiding for so long from everyone but Professor Snape. Harry wasn't so far removed from the Dursley's that he couldn't remember the torment of living on a constant knife-edge. This had to stop, and now.

"Professor Snape came to see us, to ask that we shelter you here to keep you from being forced into the Death Eaters ranks. And we agreed to do it, because we trusted him to have judged correctly that you wouldn't betray us. By keeping you here we run the risk that you will decide to go over to Voldemort anyway, and yet we still invite you to join in, we still let you hang around. We don't expect perfection. We never did. And we're not perfect either."

Ron's voice was steady and calm. There was no room left for doubt in his tone, and Harry could see the wildness slowly fade from Draco's face.

"At first it _was_ a chore to remember to invite you. Now its not. No one is that polite, Draco, not even on behalf of Professor Snape," Ron continued, a wry grin on his face, "And we didn't hold your refusals against you. Everyone needs time alone."

"Not you and Potter," the words were low and wistful. Harry laughed. They were a couple and they were in love but that didn't mean they didn't get irritated with each other now and then. He and Ron spent time apart from each other; they had to. Too much time together would lead to rows and bickering.

"I can't tell you the number of times I've snuck off for some peace and quiet," he told the blonde, "Or Ron has. We're not so different, Draco."

"What's with the names, Potter?" Draco sneered and Harry sighed.

"Just trying to be friendly, Malfoy," he replied in an even tone, "Gryffindors do that."

"I'm not a Gryffindor," Malfoy snapped, a familiar light in his eyes.

"I don't know," Ron interrupted in a drawl, "I'd say it was pretty courageous of you to go against the wishes of your family and the Dark Lord. It was fairly brave of you to reveal to Snape that you didn't want to serve someone that was supposed to be his master. Gryffindor qualities, Malfoy."

Harry had to turn away to prevent himself from bursting into laughter. Malfoy looked like someone had just stuffed something rough and knobbly where the sun doesn't shine. He glanced up and met the glittering black eyes of their resident Potions Master, who nodded once to him and faded away into the shadows.

The retorts and bickering behind Harry had a tentative sound to it. Untrained ears would think it was a continuation of the constant round of fights from Hogwarts, but Harry could hear it for what it was. Ron had missed a bickering partner, and Malfoy loved to make little jibes and asides. They had found the perfect sparring mate in each other - Harry hated bickering with his lover and his past with Malfoy was too complex to risk bickering with the teen at the moment. Perhaps one day they would be able to engage in this verbal version of chess that Malfoy and Ron were beginning, but for now Harry was pleased to let the two of them battle it out. He knew at the end of the day both would feel better for it.

0o0o0o0

"Harry, can I have a word?" James' voice was an unwelcome intrusion on his homework, but Harry got up immediately, schooling his face into a polite mask for his father. Their relationship had not improved over the past few weeks, but Sirius had helped Harry come to terms with that. Their Saturday sessions were still mandatory, even though his godfather had recovered beyond the point where he needed a nap. Harry still sat at his feet and rested against his leg, or if the teen were particularly distraught he would lie on the couch with his head in Sirius lap. This allowed them to be in contact but not eye contact - Harry found it easier to tell secrets if he wasn't looking someone in the face.

James led the way to the front parlour, and Harry smiled when he saw Dumbledore there. He was glad to see the older man who was the head of the family Harry had constructed. If he had to put a name on the role 'grandfather' would fit nicely.

"My boy," Dumbledore held his arms out and Harry let himself be folded into a hug. He smiled into the scratchy beard as Dumbledore chuckled and clutched the warm velvet robes in both hands. The man inside the robes seemed a little thinner to Harry, though he could still sense the power coming from his mentor.

"I missed you," Harry confessed quietly, "How are you, sir?"

"I'm quite well Harry," was the comforting reply, "Though I wish that I had better news to bring you today."

Harry sighed and let the Headmaster settle him onto the couch, sitting close but letting the elderly Wizard get to the point. He knew his grandfather was busy, between his duties to Hogwarts and the Wizengamot, but that didn't mean he couldn't wish they could have more time to see each other, or at least be able to see each other when there wasn't an emergency.

"Ok, what is it?" Harry smiled at the blue eyes, and caught quite clearly the moment they became sad.

"Ah my boy, if only you didn't have the experience to ask that question," the Headmaster murmured, "We ask so much of you Harry."

"I don't mind if you're the one asking," Harry smiled, gathering a wrinkled hand in his, "We may not always see eye to eye, sir, but I'll do my best for you."

"You always have," Dumbledore agreed, squeezing Harry's hand in gratitude, "You have assumed the role life handed you with far more maturity than most would manage."

"What does the Minister want then?" Harry delighted in the chuckles that comment garnered, though it was no feat of logic to assume that the Minister was once again pressuring for something that he could claim public credit for.

"Quite simply Harry, he wants to see you. He would very much like you to attend a Ministry function with your parents. There would be dinner and dancing, much like the Yule Ball," blue eyes twinkled when Harry pulled a face.

"I can't dance," he protested, though he said nothing about attending this function as yet, "What is the Ministry function for? If it's about getting Fudge re-elected then I may have to revise my decision to help out."

"Actually Harry, its about recognising those students who study magic outside the formally recognised instructional institutions," James interrupted and Harry slanted a neutral glance at his parent, "Fudge feels that as the best known student receiving private instruction it would benefit his cause to have you there."

"He's trying to undermine Hogwarts by pointing out that the Boy Who Lived is not there and doing just fine, thank you very much," Harry cut through the political speak with the ease of practice, and Dumbledore chuckled at him, squeezing the hands that still held his. The thought that this child would come to him for comfort and guidance was one that he cherished, and not because he knew that in the future Harry would be an influential person. The Boy Who Lived had once had very few comforters in his life, and the Headmaster had been honoured to be accepted as one so early on.

"He is," Dumbledore nodded, "But that is not why I would ask you to consider going."

"What are you plotting now?" Harry asked in a resigned tone and beamed when the Headmaster actually laughed at him, pleased to garner that reaction from the man who bore so many burdens. Lily looked scandalised that he would speak so, and then confused at the Headmasters reaction. As she didn't really know either of them that well that was understandable. His parents still hadn't made a consistent effort to understand and accept his family and Harry had pretty much given up trying to explain it to them. He no longer avoided them, but nor did he seek them out.

"I'm plotting, as you so aptly put it Harry, to have you go the dinner," Dumbledore chuckled again, "Any posturing to be done, will be done by the Minister or myself."

"You just want me there to lend credence to your argument, but you don't want me giving rehearsed answers," Harry divined and Dumbledore sobered, nodding and meeting his eye, "Sort of as a stalking horse."

"Unfortunately, yes," Dumbledore's voice was quiet and level, "I wish I didn't have to do this dear boy, and I wish that there was someone else I could ask…"

"I understand," Harry smiled reassuringly, "And at least I'll have a night out. It can be a bit stifling stuck in here day in and day out. Ron and Malfoy can have a proper chess match and keep each other company and Professor Snape can have that competition he dared Sirius to."

"I don't think I want to know," Dumbledore mused, and Harry grinned. They'd be brewing Pepper Up at three times the normal strength and then testing it on each other. Hyperactive did not begin to cover the expected reactions, but for some reason neither man would do it in front of Harry. Moony wasn't too worried about it - in fact he'd be there to ensure they didn't hurt themselves - so Harry wasn't too fussed. He had a sneaking suspicion that their reactions would be a bit like being extremely drunk.

"And what if we don't want to put Harry through that?" James spoke up and Harry rolled his eyes.

"You can stay here if you want," he pointed out, "Though that might make it tricky for us. You have no say in my attendance. I will go to the ball."

That comment got another chuckle from the venerable Headmaster, and Harry grinned back. He wasn't sure if he believed Ron when he insisted that the tale of Cinderella was actually an old case file from the Aurors records of violations of the Muggle secrecy act, but it did make some sort of sense.

After all, he'd transfigured mice into horses himself.

0o0o0o0


	29. politically incorrect

**Chapter twenty-nine: politically incorrect**

"Stop right there," Harry commanded and Ron ground to a reluctant halt. It didn't help that the tone of voice only added to his pressing little problem that the sight of Harry in his new dress robes had given him. His mum had bought Harry his first ever set of dress robes, classic black that had turned pale skin luminescent and cut to show the athletic young figure in its best light.

Those robes had spent then next few years rolled in a ball at the bottom of Harry's trunk, and when Lily and James had insisted their son try the robes on before the dinner to ensure they still fit, the badly crumpled robes proved too short, too tights and too badly crumpled for even the strongest of spells to undo. Harry had been thoroughly chastised by Lily, and then scolded lightly by Molly. Ron had noted that his mate was more upset over Molly's scolding than Lily's.

"I just wanted a cuddle," Ron gave his best 'sad and lonely' expression a try, but Harry was unmoved.

"I very much doubt it would have stopped there and I don't have time to spell creases out of my robes," the commanding tone had not lessened and part of Ron wanted to howl in approval - his lover was teasing him deliberately. The new robes were a blue so dark it was almost black, made of a material that played tricks in the light. Harry was limned with a lighter aura where the light caught the robe, but shadows also fell across his body, shrouding it in elegant mystery. Ron's lover was a little taller than he had been, and still slender, however the duels with Snape had added a fine layer of muscle to his compact frame that was outlined by his robes.

Ron wanted to howl and take a bite out of the bedpost. Harry had let Molly measure him and then flicked through a catalogue of choices from Madam Malians, despite Lily's protests that he should go and get his robes in person. Harry had made his choice, included his measurements and dispatched Hedwig with his order. His parents had gone out to purchase their robes together, but the household had yet to see them, just as this was the first time Ron had seen Harry in his new robes.

"I promise it would," Ron recalled his lustily wandering attention once again and Harry's lips quirked in amusement. The green eyes sparkled at him, and Ron enjoyed the sight. Harry was starting to channel some of Dumbledore's traits, and Ron found it vastly amusing the way his friend could twinkle across the table at Sirius during a difference of opinion and wind the canine animagus up tighter and tighter.

Harry snorted at him and turned away to check in the mirror one last time. Usually they didn't care too much about their appearance, beyond a certain level of comfortable neatness - otherwise known as 'teenage boy sloppiness' - but tonight Ron was aware that his lover had to look his best. He watched Harry try to flatten his unruly hair for the millionth time, and abandon the effort with a disappointed sigh. Harry's hair was always sticking out at odd angles, even when soaking wet. He'd been pulled from the lake in the second task with his hair every which way, despite the water sheeting from him. Harry had looked for Ron while still gasping and choking on lake water, his first concern that the redhead had made it safely ashore.

"Don't fret mate," Ron counselled, the memory as fresh before his eyes as if it were yesterday, "It could be worse - it could be red."

"I like your hair," Harry protested, "It's spicy."

There was a faint tinge of red to his cheeks as he said it, and he slanted Ron a very shy look that rapidly overwhelmed the warm and cuddly feelings Ron had been having and kick started his lust once more. He took a couple of eager steps forward only to have Harry whirl and hold his hand up imperatively.

"No Ron," that commanding tone was back and Ron knew that he would be cursing his lover until he got back from this Ministry shindig and they could release some tension.

"I just want to have a hug," Ron pouted soulfully.

"If you're patient now you can have me later," Harry replied firmly, "Or I'll have you… either way, I'm not bothered."

"Deal," Ron brightened up at once, imagining all the things they could do when his lover got home in those oh-so-sexy robes.

0o0o0o0

James looked nervously at his son when the portkey released them. Harry staggered slightly and grimaced, letting go of the invitation that Dumbledore had passed along to them. Lily reached out to their son and Harry let her steady him, smiling his thanks.

James had a small dilemma. They were not close to Harry, who was always polite to them yet took no real notice of their parental advice, and he had not had a chance to speak to his son about the behaviour that would be expected of them all at this function. The dilemma was did he pull Harry aside for a quiet word, or not. If he did then Harry would be angry that his parents didn't trust him. If he didn't and there was trouble then Harry would be angry that his parents hadn't warned him. Either way they lost.

"Mr James Potter, Mrs Lily Potter and the Boy Who Lived," an anonymous Witch announced and Lily flinched. Their son didn't even get addressed by his name, a situation that James found intolerable. Harry smiled at his mother in a comforting way and took her hand.

"We should move away from the port key area," James said gruffly, glaring at the staring crowd. Some of them looked away in embarrassment, which was the way it should be. After all it was ridiculous the way adults idolised and isolated their teenage boy.

Lily took his arm and kept hold of Harry's hand. She wore robes of the palest green, which seemed to glow slightly in the light, with full skirts, deep sleeves and a fitted bodice. James wore traditional Potter robes, maroon with golden trim and the family crest situated above his heart. Harry would have been entitled to wear the crest on his dress robes as well, had he been head of the family. James had seen his son's old robes and had been surprised that Molly hadn't at least put the crest on them. His son seemed unaware of that tradition, and had looked surprised when Padfoot had made his traditional comment about the family robes and family pride in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place. His son had quite a few gaps in his education that James wanted addressed, but as he and Lily had so little influence with their son it looked as if those gaps would remain.

They were surrounded by a number of Witches and Wizards, some of whom James remembered from their life before, and some of who knew Harry. The green-eyed teen performed introductions as needed but generally remained quiet, deferring to his parents politely, as a well-behaved and dutiful son would in public.

After two hours, the last port key had been deployed and the crowd of people moved from the reception hall to the dining hall. They had yet to see the Minister or the Headmaster, and as James ran his eyes over the assigned seating at their table, he realised that they weren't sitting with anyone from the Order either, though several of their members were in attendance. The dining hall was elegantly decked out, but that didn't stop James from spotting the Aurors that stood along the walls at regular intervals - security for the Minister no doubt.

"Harry my boy," the Headmaster's warm tones sounded from James left and he watched his son move readily into the offered embrace. Dumbledore was wearing his usual bright robes, and Harry looked very plain beside him.

"James, Lily, how are you?" the elderly Wizard smiled over their son's head at them, and James smiled back in reply. If Harry had to adopt someone, Albus Dumbledore was a good choice.

"Very well, sir," Lily's soft tones carried over the quiet hum of conversation, "And you?"

"I am well indeed," Dumbledore replied, "Hagrid asked me to pass on his best greetings, as did Minerva."

James smiled fondly, thinking of his former Head of House and the huge groundskeeper of Hogwarts. Beside him Lily reached out a hand and patted her sons back, Harry sighed and drew away a little from his Headmaster.

"And how are your lessons progressing Harry?" Dumbledore asked kindly, and James noted that although they were discreet everyone in the vicinity strained to hear Harry's reply.

"Well, sir," Harry smiled, "I love having Professor Lupin tutor me and Ron's a good friend. I miss the school though, and the Tower. It's not the same without all of the students around me. There isn't the same sense of competition."

James watched his son twinkle up at the Headmaster, who looked disconcerted for a second to have that particular trait reflected back at him. As revenge for dragging him to a Ministry function it was the mildest his son could administer and James admired the way the elderly Wizard recovered in a heartbeat.

"It can't be helped at the moment Harry," Dumbledore finally broke the loose hug and Harry stepped back, accepting Lily's comforting touch, "We'll have you back at school as soon as we can."

Harry beamed and then broke the tableau, turning to hold his mothers chair as the Headmaster bade farewell to James and headed to the high table and his assigned seat. The Minister sat front and centre of course, but had the gall to seat Dumbledore four places away, nearly at the end of the table. James listened to the negative comments that particular piece of manoeuvring garnered while Lily and Harry investigated the evening menu. James sighed and leaned backing his chair, steeling himself through what was bound to be a very tiresome meal indeed.

0o0o0o0


	30. my soul's dearest wish

**Chapter thirty: my soul's dearest wish**

Harry tried not to yawn as the Minister stood up during pudding to launch into his speech. The food had been excellent, but he was the youngest attendee here, and he was tired of maintaining the perfect manners that were needed to project a united front with his parents. He did love them really, he just couldn't bear to give up the rest of his family for them.

Fudge got through the long and detailed greetings, thanks for attendance and other such formalities that were part and parcel of a fancy dinner where you didn't have to pay for what you ate. Harry did his best not to roll his eyes, yawn or do anything else that would embarrass his parents and spent the time instead imaging what his lover would do to him when he finally got home. That line of thought was soon abandoned to avoid any embarrassing side effects. He switched to counting petals and leaves in the tables floral centrepiece instead.

Just as the Minister was about to launch into the main point of his no doubt long winded, short on facts, self aggrandising speech the doors to the dining hall blew open with a splintering crack and black ice crackled through the air, limning the walls, entombing the aurors that stood along it in a frigid air tight prison. All around him adults shouted, leaping to their feet, drawing their wands. Time slowed down into a shocking series of snapshots. Harry found himself bracketed by his parents even as his own wand slid into his hand and the people around him scrambled up to run from or confront their attackers. He caught a glimpse of Dumbledore, leaping with an agility that belied his age towards him. Grey robes and white masks fanned out along the entrance like an unstoppable tide and Harry had a sickening sense of déjà vu as a shrill voice hissed.

"Give me Potter!"

Only this time the Dark Lord himself was standing in the centre of his followers, his red eyes glittering feverishly in his reptilian face, dark robes swirling around him. All around Harry people started to panic, to cry out in fear even as Dumbledore reached their side and Lily tugged him back. Harry's scar was throbbing dangerously, warning him of worse pain to come as the self-styled Lord Voldemort stepped forward, his eyes scanning for the teen. His father stepped forward to shield him from sight, and Harry had a moment of desperation at the thought of losing his parents to Voldemort again.

A glance around him showed that the Aurors were struggling vainly within their icy tombs, horror etched on their faces as they began to suffocate, and Harry's sense of mercy led him to cast a quick blanketing spell that shattered the ice above their faces, allowing them to get to the life saving air hovering only inches away. He heard them gasp for breath as the ice tinkled to the floor and straightened as Voldemort tracked the spell back to him, stepping to the side to prevent his father from becoming a living shield.

"There you are," Voldemort hissed and pointed his wand directly at Harry, "Accio…"

"Protego!" Harry blurted, and just as they had in the graveyard at little Hangleton their wands connected, forming a golden dome and pushing everything near the Dark Lord and his young opponent away. Harry felt his mother's hand being torn from him but had no time to focus on her despairing cry as he focussed on pushing the bulb of magic away from his own wand and back towards Voldemort. Part of Harry was surprised that the other hadn't taken steps to prevent this from happening again; in their lessons Snape had discussed several Dark Rites that could be performed on a wand to 'orphan' it and make it more open to channelling Dark Power.

Everything Harry had was going into pushing that bulb of magic back to his enemy, the song of a phoenix soaring around the both of them as they locked their wills against each other. Harry could feel the stares of all the people around him, friend and foe alike, but didn't let that distract him from his ultimate goal. The bulb touched Voldemort's wand and at once, pale shadowy figured and objects began to rise from it. Harry locked both hands around his shuddering wand to hold it in place and thought frantically. It wouldn't take long before Voldemort tried to break the connection and Harry needed another plan, ready to act.

Snape had taught them a lot more than just duelling. He had discussed the Dark Arts in a way that few adults would have dared to attempt with the Boy Who Lived, assuming he was far too Light a Wizard to even tolerate mention of the Darker spells. Harry had understood that he could not afford to be ignorant of the tools that his opponent would use and had paid close attention to his Professor, no matter what he thought of some of the spells they heard about.

One spell had been mentioned that Harry had secretly researched further. It was borderline Dark, because it was so open to misuse. Only a strong Wizard could cast it, and often the spell killed the caster upon completion. It had been discovered in ancient times and translated into Modern English the spell was called 'my souls dearest wish'.

The caster connected himself to the will and strength of those around him to cast this spell. He took, often without asking, magical strength and purpose from those he had selected and channelled this into achieving his desire. The spell allowed the caster to do anything from raising the dead to killing the living, and that was another reason that it was borderline Dark. Such a spell could be seriously misused. Harry had reviewed it carefully, a little voice in the back of his mind urging him on.

Voldemort cried out in triumph and the connection snapped, making Harry stagger in place. Even as the Dark Lord was assaulted by the shadowy images Harry was gathering himself, gasping for air and flicking his wand, wordlessly gathering the support of the aurors, his parents and Dumbledore. He didn't dare try anyone else, lest he chose someone that was not aligned with his desires. In order for the spell to reach its full potential the people he chose had to be like minded at the very least, and the aurors were risky enough. This was advanced magic in its purest form, and Harry felt the power they granted him pooling in his chest.

"Inflamare!" Voldemort snapped, and Harry cried out in despair as his wand incinerated itself, flinging the burning object from him before the fire spread to him. The connection he had forged held though, the power spiking, rushing to get out.

"Avada Kedavra!" Voldemort spoke almost as if it was a second thought and Harry flung his arms straight out, right hand crossed over left as the sickly green spell arrowed towards him. The impact actually pushed him backwards, his feet sliding over the smooth stone as he leaned forward to stay upright. The power in his chest surged down his arms and changed the spell he was containing, leaching away the green, leaving the purest of white behind.

Instinct told Harry that he was too far away from his opponent for the spell to discharge correctly and bracing himself against the killing pressure he stepped forward, determination written in every line of his body, leaning forward like a man walking against a gale. Blood dripped steadily from his right palm, but Harry paid it no mind as he forced himself forward step after step. Once again he could hear phoenix song and the sound bolstered him, supported him as he pushed ever forward while releasing the last of the spell.

His soul's dearest wish was to see Voldemort gone forever, beyond all hope of retrieval, never to hurt another living soul again. With a final step he felt the spell discharge, the white ball of energy engulfing his enemy, unravelling the Dark Arts which included oddly enough a few artefacts that resonated with Voldemort's energies, the magic and finally the soul of the man who had tormented Harry all his life and casting him into the great Beyond.

Like a rubber band snapping the spell backlashed through Harry, carrying him away on a tide of phoenix song.

0o0o0o0


	31. a grandson's deeds

**Chapter thirty-one: a grandson's deeds**

Dumbledore watched the chaos with a detached air, his attention solely fixed upon the centre of the whirlwind. The golden dome formed by priori incantatem had pushed him gently to one side, but still he had been able to see his grandson's actions, and been able to read his intentions in the set of those narrow shoulders.

The casting of 'my souls dearest wish' had been an astonishing feat of magic that had only succeeded because the spell had detected the purity of Harry's purpose. The elderly wizard was surprised that Harry even knew about the spell, though it was possible that Severus had discussed it with his students. His former Potions Master did love all aspects of the Dark Arts, and shared his knowledge freely, provided the one who sought it was worthy in Snape's eyes. That Harry had become so was both a blessing and a curse. A blessing because the knowledge his young champion had gained had enabled him to fulfil the prophecy, a curse because the spell had so nearly destroyed its caster.

Lily and James hovered anxiously over their son even as the summoned Healers fought to stabilise him. Harry was puddled on the floor, his dark blue robes only adding to the illusion, his skin so pale with shock it was nearly transparent. Once more Dumbledore found himself helpless, consigned to merely looking on while the one he thought of as a grandson fought valiantly for life.

From the moment he had set eyes on the baby cradled in Lily's arms, Dumbledore had recognised a kindred spirit. There had been a shadow of foreknowledge in the innocent green eyes, and even at a few months old the hand that had tugged and flexed against his beard had strength of purpose to it that was usually absent from an infant so young. He had next seen the child fresh from the destruction of his parent's home, the scar upon his forehead fresh and angry. The child had been positively humming with power as the last of the killing curse effects were dispelled, and it had taken all of his willpower to leave the infant on the Muggles doorstep.

He had been dismayed that Harry had been so ill cared for, but was truly unable to intervene, knowing that to do so would upset the balance of all things. As cruel as it seemed, Harry needed to know what it was to be alone, in order to build his empathy for others. Voldemort had not understood the power of emotion, even as he railed against the world like an angry toddler.

His had been so very relieved to find Harry in front of the Mirror of Erised, though for a horrible moment he had thought the child was dead. Fawkes abrupt abandonment of him to aid Harry in the Chamber of Secrets had been wrenching, though the phoenix had been very smug about the whole affair for weeks afterwards. The confrontation with Sirius and his eventual denial of Harry's request to live on the run with his godfather had nearly broken his heart. Then came the Triwizard Tournament and the torment of watching the child risk his life time and again. His culpability in allowing those who meant Harry ill to come so close year after year had worn upon him heavily, and now he was faced with watching this miracle of a child slipped away from life whilst huddled on a cold stone floor, away from the family he loved so dearly.

"There is nothing more we can do," the Healer said softly, silencing the chaos around them as if a switch had been thrown, and Lily sobbed softly, turning to hide her face in her husbands chest. Dumbledore forced himself forward, moving carefully to kneel beside Harry, gathering him into the warmth of his arms.

"My poor, poor child," Dumbledore murmured, "It will be alright, Harry. We'll soon have you home."

"Headmaster," the Healer murmured, "It would be best if he came to Saint Mungo's."

"Will his presence in your wards heal him? No? Then he is coming home with me. Harry will want his family around him now," Dumbledore used his sternest tone and watched with satisfaction as the Healer crumbled, giving way to his will. Harry would want his lover and family close, that simple thought was all that mattered at the moment.

He gathered James and Lily to his side with a look and pointed a finger at a forgotten fork, causing it to rise in the air and then glow as he wordlessly converted it into a portkey. There was a tug and the world whirled away, returning with a rush. He found himself kneeling on the floor of Harry's bedroom, and the Potters moved back as he stood, cradling the child as if he weighed nothing. Another wordless spell sent a messenger to summon the family to the room, and he settled Harry on the bed carefully before enlarging it to make room for all those who would want to be close to the teen as he fought this final battle.

Albus Dumbledore had lived for a very long time. He had seen many things, some wonderful, some horrific. He had fought in battles and seen comrades, close friends and loved ones die. He knew that whatever the outcome of this night, Harry would have fought hard to remain with them, even as he had fought hard all his life. He wished for peace for his grandson, in whatever form it would come.

0o0o0o0


	32. the end

**Chapter thirty-one: the end**

Ron smelt like ginger. Harry found it oddly appropriate that his lover smelt of something so spicy and warm. His grandfather was there, the scent of lemon drops on the air, as were his godfather and godfather-in-law who bore the scent of dog and chocolate respectively. The light floral scent of his birth mother and deeper musk of his birth father hovered at the edge of his awareness, as did the more homely scent of his mum and dad, baking and wintergreen.

If they were all with him, then the danger had passed. Only his birth parents and grandfather had been present at the attack, and his mum and dad would not allow Ron to put himself in harms way. There was a sense of peace around him, one that he welcomed after the chaos of his battle with both Voldemort and the spells backlash.

More of the world pressed itself into his little sphere of awareness and Harry came to realise that Padfoot was carding gentle fingers through his hair, and Moony was humming to him. His grandfather had one had, his mother the other. His father was resting a hand upon his foot and his lover was touching his chest above his heart. Harry suspected that Ron wanted the reassurance of his heartbeat - whoever ended up on top in their bed of a night ended up with his ear pressed against the others chest. It made breathing difficult at times, but Harry wouldn't swap that bit of comfort for the entire world.

He was warm and comfortable as well as comforted and Harry didn't really want to move but his family needed him. There was an edge to the scents that he was picking up that indicated distress and worry. The sound of a door opening intruded on Harry's world and brought with it the smell of potions and snow.

"Any change?" the Potion Master's voice was quiet, "Has he woken?"

"I'm awake," Harry muttered, and felt them all jump, smiling and opening his eyes. He was engulfed in hugs and pats for a moment and returned them with heavy limbs, letting the fuss all wash over him.

"When I spoke of that spell Potter, I did not expect you to attempt it," Snape said from the end of his bed, which was crowded with all the people sitting on it. Harry offered the lean man a smile, hearing the words that went unspoken. Malfoy hovered beside him and Harry spared him a glance before turning his eyes to Ron. They spoke silently to each other, offering strength and love, full of promises to be fulfilled.

"Harry," Dumbledore murmured finally, breaking that loving communication, "I am so relieved that you have recovered."

"I'm sorry I worried you all," Harry replied, "Did you have to wait long?"

"No," Ron's voice was a little hoarse, "You've been out for a day."

"Is it finally done? He's really gone?" Harry asked hopefully, unsure, "Because there was something odd about that spell, I thought maybe that…"

"What is it Harry?" his grandfather leaned down, and Harry gazed up at him trustingly. Dumbledore would make it right, he usually could.

"While I held the spell I felt Voldemort being destroyed. The first thing that gave way under the spell were the Dark Arts he'd practiced on himself, but it seemed to include a few objects or artefacts that resonated with Voldemort's energies. I get the sense that somewhere out there is a bunch of broken things that were somehow tied into Voldemort's soul."

"Hmm," the Headmaster mused, leaning back while he thought. Sirius leant in to smooth Harry's hair and he leaned into the touch eagerly, smiling up at Moony and squeezing Molly's hand.

"For some time Harry, I have believed that one of the Dark Arts that Tom performed upon himself was the creation of something known as a Horcrux. This is a piece of Tom's soul that is split away from his body and stored in a simple object. He must commit murder to complete this particular rite and I believe that you held that final spell long enough to destroy the last pieces of Tom Riddle on this earth," Dumbledore said it gently and Harry felt tears well in his eyes.

"I'm a murderer," he sighed, "Even though there was no other way… I took his life."

"Hush Cub," Moony murmured, "That foul word does not apply to your actions."

Harry let them soothe him, knowing that he would carry this burden of guilt for a long time. No matter how you looked at it, someone had died at his hand. The knowledge exhausted him and he closed his eyes with a sigh, giving in to the pull of sleep, safe in the knowledge that the family would be there when he woke up once more.

0o0o0o0

Harry tossed the paper aside in disgust.

"The Boy Who Triumphed," he quoted, "Bloody hell Ron!"

His lover laughed at him and put the tray with lunch on it on the bedside table before climbing into their bed and fetching the food to float above their legs.

"The Daily Prophet has been hysterical about the whole thing ever since it happened," the red head revealed, "Fudge had a heart attack right there in the dining hall and no one noticed until it was too late. His death notice only ever made page five of the paper. You eclipsed him entirely."

"Oh goody," Harry bit into his sandwich moodily and they ate in silence. The rest of the Weasley's and Hermione would be arriving tomorrow, three days after his defeat of Voldemort. The Healers had been and gone, shaking their head in astonishment at Harry's survival. Dumbledore had taken a moment to share a private theory about Harry's affinity for phoenixes, as there had been no phoenix present when he cast his final spell, and the three documented occasions the spell had been cast made no mention of phoenix song, no matter how righteous the caster had been.

He thought that one or two of the Healers might even have been a little miffed over his restoration, mainly because he hadn't needed their skills to return from the nearly fatal spell shock. Harry was on bed rest, but only because the entire family went slightly hysterical the second time he woke up and got out of bed looking for some breakfast. He figured it was easier to keep them happy and stay in bed instead of asserting his health and wandering around while they went insane. With a bit of luck the rest of the family would be calm the insane ones down.

Ron cleared the tray away and Harry pulled his lover down flat, climbing on top of him and kissing him thoroughly. He waved a hand at the door and heard it lock itself, the felt the privacy spell establish itself around the room. He had found that the intent to do magic and some simple gestures was enough to accomplish several spells, something he put down to the experience with 'my souls dearest wish'.

"You owe me some sex," Harry said firmly. Ron spluttered up at him in astonishment and Harry silenced him with another mind melting kiss, "Some raunchy life affirming sex. I'm bored, and you promised."

"You're on bed rest," Ron panted, his eyes glazed and his body definitely not supporting his words. Harry shook his head and banished their clothes with a snap of his fingers. Harry rocked his hips in a sort of 'get with the program' rhythm.

"I'm in bed," he replied, "And if you keep arguing I'll be in you."

"Deal," Ron hooked his legs around the Boy Who Triumphed and drew him in for some raunchy life affirming sex.

**END**

**Ducks the thrown objects**


End file.
